Day 36

My podcasts, which have saved my sanity on windy days.

Lewiston, MT – Belt, MT (95 miles)

For those who are not riders, I would like to talk a little about the largest single determinant in what constitutes a good or bad day on the bike: wind. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had plenty of rest, your belly is full of carbohydrates, there are clear skies, or the terrain is flat; what matters most is the wind conditions!

This day was not the most trying of my ride thus far, because of its length, which took around 9.5 hours in the saddle to do, but because the head winds I encountered nearly all day long. When I have to exert the same amount of energy on flat land as I would while climbing, it exhausts my strength both mentally and physically. In reality it is the mental part that is so difficult. The frustration I encounter on a windy day can completely take over my mind, especially after numerous hours of destabilizing wind.

To compensate for the wind I have learned to focus on other things. It is paramount not to think or focus on my lack of progress; otherwise, the riding becomes incredibly tedious and draining. On my ride I have had countless days with stiff headwinds (I have learned from multiple sources and first hand experience that the U.S. has prevailing westerly winds in the spring; therefore, if you must ride your bike across the country do yourself a favor and start from the West), and I have had to use many tactics to distract myself from focusing on those horrible, horrible, horrible head winds; such as, interesting radio podcasts, good music, audible Spanish lessons, and thinking intently on anything, but the wind.

So, the next time you want to go for a ride do yourself a HUGE favor and check the wind forecast. I check it before every time I go venture out, that way I know how many Moth Radio podcasts or Spanish lessons to download the night before!!

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Day 35

The first change of scenery

Winnet, MT – Lewiston, MT (56 miles)

“Creak….crack!” Was the sound of my chain popping. If someone would have seen my face at that moment, they would have seen a look of pure astonishment. Because at that very instant, I had been thinking about how I needed to replace my chain before it failed and consequently stranded me in the middle of nowhere.  Well, there I was pedaling and going nowhere . . . I was stranded.

Randall squared to the rescue! My father and our friend Randal thankfully were behind me a few miles back. After waiting only fifteen minutes, they pulled up in the Jeep and handily dealt with the situation. I ended up taking my dad’s bike and giving them mine to take ahead to the next town, where they would scout for a bike shop for repair.

On my dad’s comfortable bike I rode over my first Rocky Mountain pass, which was incredible, because it was the first change in geography in over 500 miles of riding. The pine-covered, immense mountains were a sight for sore eyes. I was feeling well and exited about entering into a beautiful part of the ride. From the pass I descended into Lewiston, MT where the Randalls had found a superb bike mechanic.

Mark, from High Plains Bike and Ski, had my Long Haul Trucker in perfect running order when I arrived. In fact, he had it running more smoothly than when it was brand new. We all chatted for a while and discussed what he did to repair it. After learning new things about bike repair and enjoying his company, it was time for dinner (I seem to feel hungry constantly; I am like an eating machine). We said our goodbyes and made our way to our final dinner together. The next morning the Randalls were leaving me. I would be on my own once again.

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Check this guy out if your in Lewiston. He is the best!

Day 34

Randall L. documenting…

Jordan, MT – Winnet, MT (78 miles)

It has been a real treat riding through Montana with my father. Without him on this leg of the trip, which is the most desolate, I would have had a lot harder time. The wind, long distances between towns, and lack of diversity of scenery was a recipe for difficulty. My father and our good family friend Randall L., who acted as our sag wagon driver, were influential in helping me to not focus on the hardships of these days, but on the unique opportunity I had to share this experience with those two men.

So, I want to say thank you to Randall L., you were so kind to join us and I am grateful for your insightful words of wisdom you frequently divulged to me on this trip. THANK YOU Randall!

Well, lastly, I could describe what made the roads of eastern Montana so difficult, but I think a photo of would do more justice. See below…

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Montana’s back highways

Day 33

Circle, MT – Jordan, MT (75 Miles)

On my rides through Montana I have seen many beautiful things, but the wild flowers are in full bloom here and they seem to have caught my eye and heart the most.  I thought it would be nice to showcase a few of them. So here they are . . .

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Day 32

Industrialized agriculture, to scale

Medora, ND – Circle, MT (111 miles)

The constant rhythm of my bicycle tires rolling over and over the dark black pavement of the back highways of this country has equated to a lot of miles ridden. Those numerous miles have allotted me many new perspectives, but the one that currently stands out the most in my mind is that this country is full of industrialized farming; specifically, for the production of a few crops. Those few numbers of conventionally grown crops are used to create a slim selection of food products (some people will argue there is a diversity of food products, but when you look at the ingredients listed, it is hard to notice a difference between most of the foods sold at traditional outlets). I have noticed this in the rural portions of this country, where coincidentally, the majority of our food is grown.

The conundrum of being in farming country and yet sometimes having a low diversity of fresh foods has really struck me. During my studies at the UCSC Farm and Garden Apprenticeship Program I learned about the concept of food desserts (a lack of access to fresh foods in a certain region) in many dense urban areas, but what I didn’t realize is that a portion of this country’s farming districts are food desserts as well. It makes sense though, when farmers are subsidized and guaranteed certain prices for staple crops; such as, corn, soy beans, wheat, and etc. why would a farmer take the risk of growing vegetables that can be less of a “cash crop” or more of “financial risk” to grow. Because the production of vegetables in countless farming regions of this country is lacking, it has created an issue of access to fresh foods.

That lack of access to healthy foods is observed across portions of the farm lands of America. I have eaten at a large number of diners, shopped at many markets, and convenient stores across those lands and many have had a low diversity of nutrient rich food. I believe this is partially the reason as to why America is experiencing an obesity epidemic and an overall decline in health. Obviously, there are numerous factors into the creation of such an epidemic, but the access to healthy and fresh foods has to be a very large reason for it.

In conclusion, this ride has further entrenched my belief that something needs to be done to our current food system. It is a serious problem that many farmers who feed this country sometimes have little access to fresh vegetables. I am headed down to Nicaragua this June to build a greenhouse so that a community of people will have better access to fresh and organic foods, but a part of me now realizes, even more so, that it isn’t necessary for me to leave this countries borders to see issues with access to healthy and fresh foods.

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Corn seedling

Day 31

Riding with my Dad

New Salem, ND – Medora, ND (103 miles)

Solitude, it can be a great thing in certain quantities. After riding alone for the majority of my trip I was looking forward to spending time on the road with my dad. He was the person who introduced me to long distance riding by organizing a ride from Northern Utah to the South of Utah a few years back. On that trip we rode roughly 300 miles together, which gave me enough confidence to undertake a ride across the U.S.; therefore, having my dad accompany me for a leg of this trip means a lot.

Riding together allowed me to “get out” of my head. While I ride alone, I frequently mull over tedious things; such as, my physical state or how many miles I have traveled. I don’t like it when I concentrate on those things, but when you spend sixty hours a week on a bike it is hard to stay present and focus on the surrounding beauty or any other particularly enjoyable thing. By having someone to talk to and to share the surrounding environment, I am able to stop focusing on how many miles I’ve ridden or how my left calf feels. Instead, we were able to share the never-ending vistas of Theodore Roosevelt National Park together and discuss the many things we had encountered the previous day at the old Tolpinrud farmhouse.

Before I knew it we had ridden one hundred miles and were rolling into the scenic town of Medora, ND. There, my father, our friend Randal L., and I bunked in a comfortable hotel and ate a great Walleye dinner. After gorging ourselves, we retired to our rooms. As I lay in bed all I could think about was how pleasant it had been to share this unique experience with my dad…also, I realized how radical it was to be sleeping in a restful hotel instead of a noisy and dirty campground.  Here’s to the joys of riding with my dad!

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Theodore Roosevelt National Park

Day 30

Dennis and my father, Randall

Halliday, ND (0 miles)

Let me first say that Dennis Shetler is the man! My father, Randall L., and myself could not have asked fora better tour guide of Halliday, ND and the old Tolpinrud farm, where my great grandparents lived.

We started the morning by meeting Dennis at the only cafe in Halliday. When we walked in all eyes were on us. It was obvious that the three of us weren’t from around there, with our REI esque clothing and unfamiliar faces. After the initial scan from the locals, we assumed the only man in the cafe to be making eye contact with us was our guy. So, we walked over and introduced ourselves to the friendly and might I say, well dressed rancher (he had a stylish red bandana around his neck that tied his outfit together). After meeting one another and eating breakfast we made our way to the old Tolpinrud farm.

To mine and my father’s surprise the old farm house, that must have been built in the early 20th century, was still standing. It was surrounded by blooming Lilac bushes and still had a warm feeling to it, as if some sweet old woman was living there today. While touring the wooden structure we listened to Dennis tell story after story about the communities interactions with Peter and Olga Tolpinrud (my great grandparents) and about how his family was close to them; thereby, enabling him to know and relay countless stories to us.

After the farmhouse we headed to the graveyard where Peter and Olga are buried. It was interesting to see actual evidence of their lives. I have no physical connection to my great grandparents and this was a way for me to “see them”. For my father, I believe it was a powerful moment for him. From the way he describes Olga and Peter it is easy to notice his admiration and love for them. By visiting their graves, I believe he was able to reconnect with them and remember his many experiences with them.

It was a gift to see the place my father had talked about for so many years. I had heard him describe how wonderful it was to spend time on the farm as a child and about how the memories he made there were some of the best of his life. To see this place was a special moment for us. I felt like I began to understand my father a little better and I now know much more about my heritage. Both being positives I didn’t expect to come out of this bike ride.

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The Tolpinrud farm in Halliday

Me, my father, and Dennis

Day 29

The scenic highway from Bismark to New Salem.

Bismark, ND – New Salem, ND (40 miles)

Spending two days with Ron and Joyce in Bismark was just what I needed! I felt refreshed and ready to get back out on the road. After saying my goodbyes and simultaneously wishing I could stay a week longer with them, I left Bismark.

Using Ron’s suggestion of taking a scenic back highway, I headed west. It was a cold and rainy morning, but my spirits were high. That was because I was meeting my father and a family friend to visit the farm where my great grandparents, Olga and Peter Tolpinrud, first settled in the United States after emigrating from Norway.

I have heard about the North Dakota farm my whole life. My father would/will tell stories about riding horses in the Bad Lands, eating huge amounts of tasty food with all of the family members, relating unthinkable acts of generosity from the neighbors, and expressing an overall sense of connectedness to the community.  In short, I was looking forward to seeing the town my great grandparents lived in, Halliday, and the farm with my dad.

Also, it’s always nice traveling with my dad, who stays in hotels and eats out while traveling. These past couple of weeks I have been “roughing” it, and I was exited to sleep in hotel for a few nights. Whoop whoop!

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Day 28

My main man, Ron!

Bismark, ND (0 miles)

Rest day!!! The day previous I rode into Bismark on fumes. I was ready for a slow day of consuming massive amounts of calories and resting. So, I decided to take the day off to collect myself.

Luckily, I was staying with Ron and Joyce from warmshowers.org, who offered to let me stay with them for two nights. They had a cozy home in the suburbs of Bismark that just so happened to be next to a cafe and a bike shop, which were the two types of establishments I needed/wanted to visit. After running my errands, I hung around the house and spent some time getting to know Joyce, who was a lovely woman, now retired from social work. We chatted about many different topics, but one thing that really struck me was our conversation about life. I had asked her about what kind of advice she would give someone my age or what she would do differently if she could start her life over again. Her response was simple, but profound. She said that she would slow life down and take the time to enjoy the important things more than she had.

I am now writing this post about five days later than when I actually spoke with Joyce, but her comment about life still frequents my thoughts. As I ride long distances each day, I have time to think and that is something that I have done a lot of on this trip. It has been good for me to sort out some lingering things in my mind. I have come to many conclusions about questions I have been pondering, but I still find myself wondering whether or not I have slowed my life down enough, and if I have made enough of an effort to enjoy the simple beauties of life. Either way, I am thankful to have had that conversation with Joyce, because now I am more cognizant of taking the time to enjoy each day.

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Day 27

Day 27

Jamestown, ND – Bismark, ND (103 miles)

A few days previous I found a Deer Tick buried into my left shoulder. In a panic I carved it out with a safety pin and inspected my body for others. Thankfully, there weren’t any other blood sucking pests on my body.

Fast forward to today and guess what . . . I have Lymes disease from a tick. I noticed that the lymph nodes on my body were inflamed, and what I thought was a spider bite on my behind was not improving. Thinking that the two could be linked I quickly called my sister, who is thankfully a dermatologist. She deduced, over the phone, that I had the dreaded Lyme and prescribed the proper medication to prevent the curable disease from spreading and causing neurosis.

As I laid in bed, contemplating how I could have picked up the insects, I noticed something crawling on my body. Creeped out, I hurriedly caught the creature and to my astonishment it was another tick. I was in a panic now! I tried to fall asleep, but I couldn’t; I was too worried about being bitten again. Then, I felt something crawling on my neck!  I thought my mind was just playing a trick on me, but when I felt around I discovered another tick! By this time it was 11 at night and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep for a while. After taking a second shower, thoroughly inspecting my hotel room, and sweating bullets of fear I decided that there couldn’t be any other ticks in the room and that it was safe to go to bed. I crawled under the now tainted-from-tick sheets and went to bed at 1 am.

Lucidly awakening at dawn, I felt something on my leg. It was another a tick! By this time I had lost my sanity.

Sometimes you have to experience the bad to appreciate the good . . .  right?

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