Mileage: 32.8; 2,193 total
This was a short quick ride, with a long "cool-down" stop at the one gas station along the way.
I bicycled directly to the home of Joan and Jim, parents of Mary, a former client. Although Pierre, SD is a long way from New York City, Mary and her mother spend a week in NYC each December, and so over the past ten years I have gotten to know both Mary and Joan quite well! I had also met Jim before, on a trip that he and Joan made to NYC, and about a year ago met Mary's three daughters, Maddy, Merideth, and Jordan, when Leslie and I were able to join them for pizza in Brooklyn and to watch Mary Poppins on Broadway.
It was certainly nice to arrive in Pierre and be greeted by old friends.
On Wednesday evening we all assembled at Mary's to celebrate Maddy's 16th birthday. I was glad to meet Colin, Mary's husband, as well as a lot of other (nine?) members of the extended family.
In the 1800s steamboats would bring miners and other adventurers up to Ft. Pierre (right across the Missouri River from Pierre), where they would disembark and travel northwest about 280 miles , over the plains, to Deadwood, SD. Yesterday, for the first time in more than 100 years, a wagon train set off on the trail from Ft. Pierre to Deadwood: 300 people on horseback and in horsedrawn carriages, on an excursion expected to take 17 days. This historical re-creation took a lot of advance planning, as well as cooperation from the farmers and ranchers who own the land that the trail crosses--the organizers deserve a lot of credit for concieving of this idea and then doing all the work necessary to make it happen. After celebrating Maddy's birthday, Colin, Mary, Jordan and I drove out to "inspect" the wagon train at its first campsite along the trail!
On Thursday Leslie flies into town, and the next day we will be driving out to Mary's and Colin's cabin near Mt. Rushmore, planning to use that as a base for excursions in the Black Hills.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Day 74 (7/29): Selby to Onida, SD
Mileage: 60.5; 2,160 total
This was a relatively fast ride, with light tailwinds. But by the mid-afternoon it had gotten quite, hot, in the low 90's, and I was glad to call it a day.
There is a little hotel in Onida, but no one was at the desk when I arrived. A woman at the restaurant next door told me that the hotel owner would be out harvesting wheat, and that the hotel was likely all booked up with workers who had come into town for the harvest. But she put me in touch with a woman who had a small house for rent, for $35 for the night, so I had good lodging for $10 less than I would have paid at the hotel!
Onida is a nice little town of about 700 people, with one restaurant. I had a good dinner there, and breakfast the next morning. Most of the other patrons appeared to be people working on the wheat harvest, but as I was finishing breakfast I got involved talking with a man and a woman at a nearby table, and joined them for a couple of more cups of coffee. Then answered various naive questions that I had about farming. The man said he had lived near Onida for 70 years, and had never seen such a good year for the crops: wheat, corn, sunflowers, and soybeans were all doing exceptionally well.
In the course of our conversation the woman, Barbara, asked what I had done before retiring, and when I said I had been a consulting actuary she knew exactly what an actuary is. It turns out that for more than 40 years Barbara has been either the manager or president of the Central Farmers Mutual Insurance Company, which provides coverage to about 600 farmers in the area. So we concluded our breakfast talk with a discussion of the serious risk of hail, aggregate stop loss reinsurance, and the need for adequate surplus.
This was a relatively fast ride, with light tailwinds. But by the mid-afternoon it had gotten quite, hot, in the low 90's, and I was glad to call it a day.
There is a little hotel in Onida, but no one was at the desk when I arrived. A woman at the restaurant next door told me that the hotel owner would be out harvesting wheat, and that the hotel was likely all booked up with workers who had come into town for the harvest. But she put me in touch with a woman who had a small house for rent, for $35 for the night, so I had good lodging for $10 less than I would have paid at the hotel!
Onida is a nice little town of about 700 people, with one restaurant. I had a good dinner there, and breakfast the next morning. Most of the other patrons appeared to be people working on the wheat harvest, but as I was finishing breakfast I got involved talking with a man and a woman at a nearby table, and joined them for a couple of more cups of coffee. Then answered various naive questions that I had about farming. The man said he had lived near Onida for 70 years, and had never seen such a good year for the crops: wheat, corn, sunflowers, and soybeans were all doing exceptionally well.
In the course of our conversation the woman, Barbara, asked what I had done before retiring, and when I said I had been a consulting actuary she knew exactly what an actuary is. It turns out that for more than 40 years Barbara has been either the manager or president of the Central Farmers Mutual Insurance Company, which provides coverage to about 600 farmers in the area. So we concluded our breakfast talk with a discussion of the serious risk of hail, aggregate stop loss reinsurance, and the need for adequate surplus.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Day 73 (7/28): Mobridge to Selby, SD
Mileage: 22.2; 2100 total
Relaxed most of day in Mobridge, then took a relatvely short, easy
ride to Selby.
Checked into motel. Went to the one restaurant and had their dinner
special: a hamburger, French fries, cottage cheese with a canned
peach. Plus had a piece of peach pie.
Selby seems like a nice little town, population 730. It must have been
larger and more prosperous 100 years ago: above is a photo of its
opera house.
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
The Bannon Lynching
In a posting from about a week ago I mentioned that the town museum in Alexander, ND, had a big diplay about a lynching that had occurred there in the 1930s.
Bill G., an old friend whom I had forgotten was originally from ND, had never heard of this lynching before but was interested enough in it to track it down on the Internet. Here is a good article, if you are interested in further information on this:
http://www.court.state.nd.us/court/news/bannon/bannon.htm
Bill G., an old friend whom I had forgotten was originally from ND, had never heard of this lynching before but was interested enough in it to track it down on the Internet. Here is a good article, if you are interested in further information on this:
http://www.court.state.nd.us/court/news/bannon/bannon.htm
Day 72 (7/27): Pollock to Mobridge, SD
Mileage: 39.2; 2,078 total
When I got up the motel office was still closed, but I was told that the owner was in the cafe down the street. I found him there. He was a very amiable fellow, and invited me to join him and his friends for breakfast, coffee, and talk. The cafes in these little towns are the local gathering places, much like the local pubs in England, and I had a good breakfast and enjoyed meeting a few of the local people, including the woman who ran the local museum and was an expert in Lewis & Clark. We were seated at a large table, and during the course of the time I was there, new people would come sit down and join us. There was one topic of conversation that struck me as different than any I had heard before: there had been a thunderstorm the night before, and everyone that came in knew exactly how much rain they had received, ranging from 0.15 inches to 0.9 inches. I guess this type of knowledge is typical of any farming community.
As my route has taken me from eastern Montana thru ND and into SD, the vegetation has gotten greener, indicating more rainfall as I have traveled southeast. The fields of crops here, mainly corn and soybeans, are extensive and lush. I have never seen anything quite like them before.
When I departed it was hot and I faced bad headwinds again. At first, my progress was even slower than that of the day before, probably because I was still worn out from the day before. At about the half-way point I stopped at a farmhouse to get more water and had a nice conversation for about a half hour with an elderly woman who lived there. I drank a couple of quarts of cold water while talking with her, and that revived me a lot; then, when I left her place the headwinds ceased and so I had a fairly easy ride the rest of the way to Mobridge.
In Mobridge I (a) found a Dairy Queen and had a large Blizzard (milk shake); (b) checked into a motel; (c) had a good dinner.
When I got up the motel office was still closed, but I was told that the owner was in the cafe down the street. I found him there. He was a very amiable fellow, and invited me to join him and his friends for breakfast, coffee, and talk. The cafes in these little towns are the local gathering places, much like the local pubs in England, and I had a good breakfast and enjoyed meeting a few of the local people, including the woman who ran the local museum and was an expert in Lewis & Clark. We were seated at a large table, and during the course of the time I was there, new people would come sit down and join us. There was one topic of conversation that struck me as different than any I had heard before: there had been a thunderstorm the night before, and everyone that came in knew exactly how much rain they had received, ranging from 0.15 inches to 0.9 inches. I guess this type of knowledge is typical of any farming community.
As my route has taken me from eastern Montana thru ND and into SD, the vegetation has gotten greener, indicating more rainfall as I have traveled southeast. The fields of crops here, mainly corn and soybeans, are extensive and lush. I have never seen anything quite like them before.
When I departed it was hot and I faced bad headwinds again. At first, my progress was even slower than that of the day before, probably because I was still worn out from the day before. At about the half-way point I stopped at a farmhouse to get more water and had a nice conversation for about a half hour with an elderly woman who lived there. I drank a couple of quarts of cold water while talking with her, and that revived me a lot; then, when I left her place the headwinds ceased and so I had a fairly easy ride the rest of the way to Mobridge.
In Mobridge I (a) found a Dairy Queen and had a large Blizzard (milk shake); (b) checked into a motel; (c) had a good dinner.
Day 71 (July 26): Hazelton Campground, ND to Pollock, SD
Mileage: 58.7 miles; 2,039 miles total
The highlight of this day was getting into South Dakota, a step closer to visiting with Mary, her mother Joan, and their families in Pierre, and then vacationing with Leslie who is arriving on Thursday.
Otherwise, this was a very grueling day, my longest yet. There were strong headwinds the whole way, seriously impeding my progress. And it was quite hot, with no place to get more water along most of the route -- I was glad that I had left Bismarck the day before with about 12 quarts of water. My average speed was only about 6.4 mph, so this resulted in a long day.
On the way I met Mike from Oklahoma City, photo below, who was traveling the L&C route in the opposite direction, supported by his wife in a car. He was raving about the fantastic tail wind that he was having -- I sure wish I had been traveling in his direction!
When I arrived in Pollock it was getting dark, and the lights were off at the local motel. The office was closed, but there was a sign stating which rooms were available and I took one, ate a dehydrated dinner, and conked out for the night.
The highlight of this day was getting into South Dakota, a step closer to visiting with Mary, her mother Joan, and their families in Pierre, and then vacationing with Leslie who is arriving on Thursday.
Otherwise, this was a very grueling day, my longest yet. There were strong headwinds the whole way, seriously impeding my progress. And it was quite hot, with no place to get more water along most of the route -- I was glad that I had left Bismarck the day before with about 12 quarts of water. My average speed was only about 6.4 mph, so this resulted in a long day.
On the way I met Mike from Oklahoma City, photo below, who was traveling the L&C route in the opposite direction, supported by his wife in a car. He was raving about the fantastic tail wind that he was having -- I sure wish I had been traveling in his direction!
When I arrived in Pollock it was getting dark, and the lights were off at the local motel. The office was closed, but there was a sign stating which rooms were available and I took one, ate a dehydrated dinner, and conked out for the night.
Day 70 (7/25): Bismarck to Hazelton Campground, ND
Mileage 36.5; 1,980 total
Very enjoyable day!
Bob Ritterbush, a highschool friend of Max from Great Falls (see prior postings regarding this thoughtful gentleman), picked me up at the motel and took me to breakfast. He is a very interesting guy: a structural engineer and architect with a wide variety of interests, including the history of North Dakota. (His interest in history may have been inspired by his daughter, a professor at Kansas State who is an archeologist specializing in the prehistory and ethnohistory of the Great Plains -- or was it Bob's wide range of interests that inspired his daughter's?) I certainly enjoyed chatting with Bob over a long breakfast. My only disappointment is that I forgot to take a photo of him. (picture added!)
When I packed up and left in the late morning, I stopped by the State Capitol building, at the urging of both Max and Bob. I guess some people (Bill G.?) don't like the looks of this building, because it is one of only four state capitol buildings that doesn't have a dome (the other three are Florida, Louisiana, and Nebraska). The original building burned in 1930, and this new one was built as an 18 story skyscraper, housing all the state offices and dominating the Bismarck skyline. Its grounds include the ND Heritage Center, an botanical garden, and parks...a very idyllic setting. The Heritage Center was very nice, but the most interesting thing was the tour of the Capitol Building, which is decorated in the Art Deco style and has a beutiful interior featuring especially attractive wood paneling from around the world--I was really glad to take the time to see this.
While at the State Capitol I decided to make a "courtesy call" to the State Insurance Department. I had never done any consulting work for the ND Insurance Department, but had worked for lots of other insurance departments over the years and so I thought a brief visit would not be out of order. This was the first time I ever stopped in an insurance department dressed in bicycling clothes (!), but the folks I met were very casual and friendly. The Commissioner was out, but Mike Andring (FCAS), their property/casualty actuary, was in, and I very much enjoyed meeting and talking with Mike. He is also a bicyclist, and if I had known him ahead of time I probably would have tried to talk him into joining me for a day or two on the road. (Note: ND's population is only about 660,000, and I was actually very surprised to find out that they had an FCAS on staff. Mike told me he has been there since the early 1990's, and had been the only FCAS in ND until recently, when a consulting actuary relocated to Bismarck.)
I left Bismarck in the late afternoon and had an uneventful ride down to the campground where I spent the night. There were four hospitable couples from Bismarck camped near me, in their RV's, and I very much appreciated it when they invited me to join them for food, cold beers(!), and conversation. And coffee in the morning! They claimed to be there for the fishing, but I think that they were mainly there just to relax and socialize over the weekend. Thanks, guys, for being so friendly!
Note: photos are of (a) the Capitol Building; (b) sunset over the Missouri River; and (c) the four couples from Bismarck.
Very enjoyable day!
Bob Ritterbush, a highschool friend of Max from Great Falls (see prior postings regarding this thoughtful gentleman), picked me up at the motel and took me to breakfast. He is a very interesting guy: a structural engineer and architect with a wide variety of interests, including the history of North Dakota. (His interest in history may have been inspired by his daughter, a professor at Kansas State who is an archeologist specializing in the prehistory and ethnohistory of the Great Plains -- or was it Bob's wide range of interests that inspired his daughter's?) I certainly enjoyed chatting with Bob over a long breakfast. My only disappointment is that I forgot to take a photo of him. (picture added!)
When I packed up and left in the late morning, I stopped by the State Capitol building, at the urging of both Max and Bob. I guess some people (Bill G.?) don't like the looks of this building, because it is one of only four state capitol buildings that doesn't have a dome (the other three are Florida, Louisiana, and Nebraska). The original building burned in 1930, and this new one was built as an 18 story skyscraper, housing all the state offices and dominating the Bismarck skyline. Its grounds include the ND Heritage Center, an botanical garden, and parks...a very idyllic setting. The Heritage Center was very nice, but the most interesting thing was the tour of the Capitol Building, which is decorated in the Art Deco style and has a beutiful interior featuring especially attractive wood paneling from around the world--I was really glad to take the time to see this.
While at the State Capitol I decided to make a "courtesy call" to the State Insurance Department. I had never done any consulting work for the ND Insurance Department, but had worked for lots of other insurance departments over the years and so I thought a brief visit would not be out of order. This was the first time I ever stopped in an insurance department dressed in bicycling clothes (!), but the folks I met were very casual and friendly. The Commissioner was out, but Mike Andring (FCAS), their property/casualty actuary, was in, and I very much enjoyed meeting and talking with Mike. He is also a bicyclist, and if I had known him ahead of time I probably would have tried to talk him into joining me for a day or two on the road. (Note: ND's population is only about 660,000, and I was actually very surprised to find out that they had an FCAS on staff. Mike told me he has been there since the early 1990's, and had been the only FCAS in ND until recently, when a consulting actuary relocated to Bismarck.)
I left Bismarck in the late afternoon and had an uneventful ride down to the campground where I spent the night. There were four hospitable couples from Bismarck camped near me, in their RV's, and I very much appreciated it when they invited me to join them for food, cold beers(!), and conversation. And coffee in the morning! They claimed to be there for the fishing, but I think that they were mainly there just to relax and socialize over the weekend. Thanks, guys, for being so friendly!
Note: photos are of (a) the Capitol Building; (b) sunset over the Missouri River; and (c) the four couples from Bismarck.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Day 69 (7/24): Washburn to Bismarck, ND
Mileage: 46.1; 1,943 total
This was a very pleasant ride on a nice day. Without a headwind! Maybe even a bit of a tailwind.
Bismarck is a large city. As I biked to the Fairmont Inn, where I had reservations, I was glad to pass an optician's store and find out that they could repair the frame of my glasses, which broke yesterday. It took awhile for them to send it to take it to their lab and solder it, but they made a special trip to the lab with my glasses so that I was able to get the glasses back within a couple of hours. Friendly people!
I checked into the Marriott Fairmont Inn at the employee rate, thanks to Dana D. who manages the Fairmont Inn in Great Falls and is a friend of Max. Thanks, Dana! (Dana's picture appears below.)
It turns out that Max from Great Falls, who has been so helpful to me, actually was born in North Dakota, moved to Bismarck when he was 11 years old, and went through high school here. So I am still within Max's "jurisdiction," as he says, and he is still looking after me! I am beginning to think of Max as my guardian angel. Tomorrow morning Bob, a childhood friend of Max's, is going to pick me up at the motel and take me out to breakfast!
This was a very pleasant ride on a nice day. Without a headwind! Maybe even a bit of a tailwind.
Bismarck is a large city. As I biked to the Fairmont Inn, where I had reservations, I was glad to pass an optician's store and find out that they could repair the frame of my glasses, which broke yesterday. It took awhile for them to send it to take it to their lab and solder it, but they made a special trip to the lab with my glasses so that I was able to get the glasses back within a couple of hours. Friendly people!
I checked into the Marriott Fairmont Inn at the employee rate, thanks to Dana D. who manages the Fairmont Inn in Great Falls and is a friend of Max. Thanks, Dana! (Dana's picture appears below.)
It turns out that Max from Great Falls, who has been so helpful to me, actually was born in North Dakota, moved to Bismarck when he was 11 years old, and went through high school here. So I am still within Max's "jurisdiction," as he says, and he is still looking after me! I am beginning to think of Max as my guardian angel. Tomorrow morning Bob, a childhood friend of Max's, is going to pick me up at the motel and take me out to breakfast!
Day 68 (7/23): A Day off in Washburn, ND
Mileage: 5.3; 1,897 total
As planned, I took the day off so that I would be able to tour both the local Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center and the reconstruction of Fort Mandan. Plus, I needed a day of rest....and of course I wanted to take the day off in observance of Larissa's (my daughter's) birthday!
Washburn is a small town but it had just what I needed: a little library so that I could catch up on emails and blogging, and a good restaurant.
This area is where Lewis & Clark and their Corps of Discovery spent their first winter and, in doing so in harsh winter condtions, grew into a cohesive military team of explorers. The L&C Interpretive Center was very nicely laid out, giving a good overview of the entire exploration as well as focusing somewhat on their winter here, getting to know and being helped by the Mandan indians. The Mandans were a relatively wealthy, farming tribe, and their large village(s) here on the Missouri River formed a major trading center for tribes from hundreds of miles around, as well as for British and French fur traders coming down from Canada.
The Interpretive Center also had an extensive collection of prints of artwork by Karl Bodner, a Swiss artist who came west in the 1830s. I liked them.
The original Fort Mandan, which the expedition constructed for their first winter, had actually burned down by the time the expedition returned, a year later, from the west coast. Its location is now under the Missouri River. The reconstructed fort, put up about 35 years ago, is about 8 miles from the original location. It seems to be a very authentic reproduction, and was certainly interesting to see.
As so often happens, the people I meet are just as interesting as the places I'm visiting. One of the other tourists at Ft. Mandan was from Winnipeg, and was on a trip visiting places that his great-great-great.....grandfather, a French Canadian fur trader/explorer, had "explored" in the 1700s. This explorer, Pierre Gaultier, had traded with the local Mandan indians in 1738, more than 65 years before Lewis & Clark came along! I wasn't familiar with Pierre Gaultier, but he was apparently one of Canada's most illustrious explorers, and there has been a lot written about him. Google "Pierre Gaultier" for more information.
In addition, I had the pleasure to meet Pat O'Bryan (yes, Greg B., Ken C., and other fans of the Patrick O'Brien series, that is his name). Pat has been taking an auto trip, and gave me a lift from the Interpretive Center to Ft. Mandan and back, so that I could avoid four miles of bicycling in the heat of the day. I didn't have too much time to talk with him on the short car rides, but he is a bright, interesting, adventurous guy. He once decided that it would be fun to play a round of golf on the golf courses in the world that are: furthest north (in Iceland); furthest south (New Zealand); furthest west (Hawaii); furthest east (Fuji); highest altitude (La Paz, Bolivia); and lowest altitude (Death Valley). So he rounded up three friends to complete the foursome, and they played these courses within a two-week period, logging over 100,000 air miles! Their feat was written up in Golf Digest (or maybe it was another golf magazine?) .
Pat's story reminded me of a puzzle (as so many things do), and I asked him if could identify the states that are the furthest north, south, east, and west. He stuggled with this a little, but correctly named them all. He is one of the very few people I have asked who have figured this out correctly.
A photo of Pat appears below, followed by a photo of Ft. Mandan.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
My Weight Loss
A number of readers have asked how much weight I have lost so far. Quite a few people have thought that I have been eating so much that I must not be losing much weight.
I have a pretty good idea of how many pounds of fat I have shed, but am going to suppress this news until I get back to NYC and find out what the total loss for the trip has been.
I propose a contest: Guess how many pounds I lose by the time I get home. Submit your guess by email to me or by attempting to post a comment on the blog (but I will prevent your guess from being posted on the blog). The prize for the winner will be a milkshake the next time we get together.
I have a pretty good idea of how many pounds of fat I have shed, but am going to suppress this news until I get back to NYC and find out what the total loss for the trip has been.
I propose a contest: Guess how many pounds I lose by the time I get home. Submit your guess by email to me or by attempting to post a comment on the blog (but I will prevent your guess from being posted on the blog). The prize for the winner will be a milkshake the next time we get together.
Mercer Oliver
The name of the actuarial firm that I worked for changed many times in recent years, as the result of acquisitions and reorganizations. For many years we were Mercer. Then Mercer Oliver Wyman and, at the time I retired, Oliver Wyman. Were we ever Mercer Oliver? I guess this permutation never popped up.
With that background, I had been well aware yesterday that most of my ride was within Mercer County. But I was surprised, toward the end of the day, to look at my map and see that Mercer County was adjacent to Oliver County. I never saw a sign saying that I was entering Oliver County, but the best I can figure is that the road I was on, Rte 200, formed the northern border of Oliver County. I am tempted to say "Mercer, Oliver -- why? Man, what a coincidence!" but that would be too corny.
With that background, I had been well aware yesterday that most of my ride was within Mercer County. But I was surprised, toward the end of the day, to look at my map and see that Mercer County was adjacent to Oliver County. I never saw a sign saying that I was entering Oliver County, but the best I can figure is that the road I was on, Rte 200, formed the northern border of Oliver County. I am tempted to say "Mercer, Oliver -- why? Man, what a coincidence!" but that would be too corny.
Day 67 (July 22): Hazen to Washburn, ND
Mileage: 35.0; 1,892 total
I was thinking that this would be a short, easy ride. But due to windy conditions, and temperature in the low 90's, it turned out to anything but easy. The headwind was a steady 15-20 mph, and made progress very difficult: I was often struggling to do 5 mph on the flats, and 7 to 8 mph on slight downhills. My overall average speed for the day was 6.8 mph, probably the only time it has been under 7 mph on this trip. It was hot, and I think that the strong winds tended to dehydrate me more quickly than normal.
To top it off, there was no place to stop to get a cold drink. I pulled off the road at one point to eat (a bagel w/peanut butter, which is getting to be my staple) and a piece of fruit in the shade of some trees by an abandoned church.
Getting closer to Washburn I stopped again by the side of the road to eat another piece of fruit and Harry and Sue, who passed me on their motorcycle, turned around and came back to see if I was ok. We chatted for quite awhile. Roughly my age, I guess, they are about 40 days into their motorcycle/camping trip, which they started from the West Coast of Florida. They are now headed up to British Columbia, and enjoying every minute of it. They are also both members of the Coastal Cruisers, a bicycling club in the town where they live, so they are sympathetic to bicyclists. In addition, they are both avid walkers, and are interested in coming to NYC for the Great Saunter of 2009 (May 2nd).
Washburn is a small community, but I found a motel, bought some food at the grocery store which I ate in my room, and slept for a long time.
I was thinking that this would be a short, easy ride. But due to windy conditions, and temperature in the low 90's, it turned out to anything but easy. The headwind was a steady 15-20 mph, and made progress very difficult: I was often struggling to do 5 mph on the flats, and 7 to 8 mph on slight downhills. My overall average speed for the day was 6.8 mph, probably the only time it has been under 7 mph on this trip. It was hot, and I think that the strong winds tended to dehydrate me more quickly than normal.
To top it off, there was no place to stop to get a cold drink. I pulled off the road at one point to eat (a bagel w/peanut butter, which is getting to be my staple) and a piece of fruit in the shade of some trees by an abandoned church.
Getting closer to Washburn I stopped again by the side of the road to eat another piece of fruit and Harry and Sue, who passed me on their motorcycle, turned around and came back to see if I was ok. We chatted for quite awhile. Roughly my age, I guess, they are about 40 days into their motorcycle/camping trip, which they started from the West Coast of Florida. They are now headed up to British Columbia, and enjoying every minute of it. They are also both members of the Coastal Cruisers, a bicycling club in the town where they live, so they are sympathetic to bicyclists. In addition, they are both avid walkers, and are interested in coming to NYC for the Great Saunter of 2009 (May 2nd).
Washburn is a small community, but I found a motel, bought some food at the grocery store which I ate in my room, and slept for a long time.
Day 66 (July 21): Kildeer to Hazen, ND
Mileage: 57.9; 1,857 total
This was another somewhat uneventful, day. I got off to a reasonably early start, had a good breakfast, and after about 20 miles I stopped in the small town of Halliday to cool off and take a break for about an hour in a little restaurant. Then I continued, and also stopped ten miles later to take another one hour break, in the community of Dodge, the only other stopping place along the way. I was glad to escape the heat, but when I got out of Dodge I was sorry to find that the wind had shifted from the south to the east, so that I now had a light headwind, making the remainder of my ride much longer than I had been expecting.
Toward the end of the day, with about 4 miles left to go, I came to a road construction area. Cars were only being allowed through, one direction at a time, in "convoys" that followed a "pilot car." I was told that I could not bicycle through the area, because of the soft gravel made it too dangerous for bicycles, and that I could throw my bicycle in the back of the "pilot car," which was actually a pick-up truck. So I gladly accepted, and soon was camped at a very nice RV park in Hazen. (Note: the miles in the truck were not added into my trip total!)
This was another somewhat uneventful, day. I got off to a reasonably early start, had a good breakfast, and after about 20 miles I stopped in the small town of Halliday to cool off and take a break for about an hour in a little restaurant. Then I continued, and also stopped ten miles later to take another one hour break, in the community of Dodge, the only other stopping place along the way. I was glad to escape the heat, but when I got out of Dodge I was sorry to find that the wind had shifted from the south to the east, so that I now had a light headwind, making the remainder of my ride much longer than I had been expecting.
Toward the end of the day, with about 4 miles left to go, I came to a road construction area. Cars were only being allowed through, one direction at a time, in "convoys" that followed a "pilot car." I was told that I could not bicycle through the area, because of the soft gravel made it too dangerous for bicycles, and that I could throw my bicycle in the back of the "pilot car," which was actually a pick-up truck. So I gladly accepted, and soon was camped at a very nice RV park in Hazen. (Note: the miles in the truck were not added into my trip total!)
Day 65 (July 20): Watford City to Kildeer, ND
Mileage: 57.8; 1,799 total
This was a somewhat uneventful ride, with the exception of a long climb (about 3 miles at about a 5% to 6% grade?) near the entrance to the northern section of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I had never heard of this park before, and I only rode along its eastern border rather than entering it, but it is apparently a very beautiful park and an excellent place to go to "get up close" to buffalo.
On my ride south, alongside the park, I bumped into Josh and Natalie (I had met them a couple of days earlier, in Sydney) who were riding north. They had biked into the park to camp for a night, and thought it was a fantastic place, with buffalo within yards of their tent and lots of grunting from the males, because it was rutting season. They were headed north to Williston, to catch a train to Fargo in order to speed up their trip a bit, because they were running short of time.
In Kildeer I had been told that I would find a place to eat in Grassy Butte, about 30 miles south of Kildeer. Unfortunately, this place was closed on Sunday. I didn't miss the food much, because I was able to eat another bagel w/peanut butter, but I did have a serious need for more water. Grassy Butte only had a few buildings, but one was a community hall where a family was holding a reunion; the community hall didn't have running water, but the family had some large jugs of water and I was able to refil my water bottles there.
The motel in Kildeer was somewhat of a dump, but the owner was nice. He offered me the use of his pick-up to drive to the nearest restaurant, about a mile away. And the food at the Buckskin Cafe was suprisingly good.
This was a somewhat uneventful ride, with the exception of a long climb (about 3 miles at about a 5% to 6% grade?) near the entrance to the northern section of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I had never heard of this park before, and I only rode along its eastern border rather than entering it, but it is apparently a very beautiful park and an excellent place to go to "get up close" to buffalo.
On my ride south, alongside the park, I bumped into Josh and Natalie (I had met them a couple of days earlier, in Sydney) who were riding north. They had biked into the park to camp for a night, and thought it was a fantastic place, with buffalo within yards of their tent and lots of grunting from the males, because it was rutting season. They were headed north to Williston, to catch a train to Fargo in order to speed up their trip a bit, because they were running short of time.
In Kildeer I had been told that I would find a place to eat in Grassy Butte, about 30 miles south of Kildeer. Unfortunately, this place was closed on Sunday. I didn't miss the food much, because I was able to eat another bagel w/peanut butter, but I did have a serious need for more water. Grassy Butte only had a few buildings, but one was a community hall where a family was holding a reunion; the community hall didn't have running water, but the family had some large jugs of water and I was able to refil my water bottles there.
The motel in Kildeer was somewhat of a dump, but the owner was nice. He offered me the use of his pick-up to drive to the nearest restaurant, about a mile away. And the food at the Buckskin Cafe was suprisingly good.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Day 64 (7/19): Sundheim Park to Watford City, ND
Mileage: 38.5; 1,741 total
Not a long ride, but Watford City was the only reasonable stopping point for me.
I broke camp as quickly as possible amidst swarms of mosquitos. Didn't even think about fixing breakfast. Ate some snack food shortly after starting and then had a late breakfast at Alexander, ND. Also toured the town museum -- major display focused on the 1931 lynching of a confessed murderer of a family of six. I clearly got the sense that the town was proud of this example of "frontier justice"!
Spent a relaxing afternoon in a motel that turned out to have a nice pool!
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Day 63 (7/18): Sydney to Sundheim Park, North Dakota
Mileage: 18.7; 1703 total
Instead of taking a complete rest day in Sydney, I decided to meander up to this park on the west side of the Yellowstone River. So I got off to a late start and had a relatively short ride.
When I reached Fairview,MT I found a very nice little restaurant in which to have a late lunch and wait out the heat of the day. A group of local men occupied a couple of tables, using the restaurant as their meeting place for playing cards. They were playing cribbage, with which I was not at all familiar. They were a friendly bunch and explained most of it to me-- it seems like a pretty good, fast game, but I don't think it is played much any more.
I got to the park, which turned out to be only some picnic tables in some woods by the river, in a light rain with lots of mosquitos and no other people. I quickly set up my tent and then walked over the no-longer-used RR bridge over the river and thru the 300 foot tunnel on the other side. The bridge and tunnel were constructed in 1912. The bridge is a lift bridge, but the lift was only operated once, as a test. Right after completion, steamboats stopped coming up the river and so the lift wasn't needed! Interesting bridge--google "fairview bridge" for more info.
When I came out of the tunnel to walk back across the bridgeI found out that the light rain had turned into a thunderstorm, with high winds and cold rain. I was glad to find my tent was still standing, crawled in, dried off, and passed the next 12 hours in the tent, resting, sleeping, and eating peanut butter on a bagel for dinner.
Note: On this day I left Montana, after a full month and almost 1,000 miles. It is a beautiful state, with lots of friendly people, but now that I am in North Dakota I feel one step closer to home.
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Friday, July 18, 2008
Message to Bob and Kathy
Bob/Kathy,
I recieved (and posted) your comment, but I have no way of getting in touch with you directly. I cannot load your blog, so cannot post a comment to you. Maybe you will read this.
I bumped into Mike in Sydney yesterday. He had biked from Circle to Lambert. Then yesterday he biked from Lambert to Sydney, spent time sightseeing, and was continuing to Fairview, MT, where he thought he might hang around a good part of today. I am going to be leaving for Fairview shortly, so I might bump into him again.
I expect to be in Washburn during the middle of the week, and will be taking a tour of the Interpretive Center there. You can contact me at waltercwright.yahoo.com or at 917 783 6540.
I recieved (and posted) your comment, but I have no way of getting in touch with you directly. I cannot load your blog, so cannot post a comment to you. Maybe you will read this.
I bumped into Mike in Sydney yesterday. He had biked from Circle to Lambert. Then yesterday he biked from Lambert to Sydney, spent time sightseeing, and was continuing to Fairview, MT, where he thought he might hang around a good part of today. I am going to be leaving for Fairview shortly, so I might bump into him again.
I expect to be in Washburn during the middle of the week, and will be taking a tour of the Interpretive Center there. You can contact me at waltercwright.yahoo.com or at 917 783 6540.
Day 62 (7/17): Richey to Sydney, MT
Mileage: 49.5; 1,684 total
Left Richey before 8 AM, after a quick breakfast of instant oatmeal.
On the ride to Sydney the rolling hills of the past few days were fewer and less steep.
I had a long break at the halfway point, the little town of Lambert. I spent most of the time in a little restaurant that is owned by the town and staffed my local residents (a mother and her daughter, about 10 years old, were handling it while I was there). When I arrived, I had a late breakfast of eggs and bacon, and an iced coffee which the woman fixed especially for me, first putting a cup of hot coffee in the frig until it cooled enough to pour it over ice. I lingered for awhile, getting my cell phone and camera batteries charged up, and then toured the little local museum (every little western town seems to have a museum, which is a nice way for them to preserve their past). I returned to the restaurant for lunch, at which time it was packed with about 15 local people. Interestingly, I learned that the "system" was to fill out your own food order, then walk behind the counter and clip it up in front of the cook/waitress -- a very casual place. I thought it was odd that the town owned the restaurant, but apparently any profits go into a fund for the kids.
After Lambert I completed my ride into Sydney, a relatively large town. I stopped in the local museum, which had a nice art show featuring work of Nancy Cawdrey, a Montana artist. I particularly liked her dyed silk paintings: view some of it at www.nancycawdrey.com
When I left the museum I bumped into Mike (see previous postings) coming out of a grocery store. He had arrived earlier in the day, and was about to leave to go another 10 miles or so.
I checked into a motel and found a laundrymat. After dinner, I flagged down two bicyclists, Josh and Natalie (pictured below, when I get the photo posted), who were making a beeline from Portland, Oregon to Buffalo, NY.
Left Richey before 8 AM, after a quick breakfast of instant oatmeal.
On the ride to Sydney the rolling hills of the past few days were fewer and less steep.
I had a long break at the halfway point, the little town of Lambert. I spent most of the time in a little restaurant that is owned by the town and staffed my local residents (a mother and her daughter, about 10 years old, were handling it while I was there). When I arrived, I had a late breakfast of eggs and bacon, and an iced coffee which the woman fixed especially for me, first putting a cup of hot coffee in the frig until it cooled enough to pour it over ice. I lingered for awhile, getting my cell phone and camera batteries charged up, and then toured the little local museum (every little western town seems to have a museum, which is a nice way for them to preserve their past). I returned to the restaurant for lunch, at which time it was packed with about 15 local people. Interestingly, I learned that the "system" was to fill out your own food order, then walk behind the counter and clip it up in front of the cook/waitress -- a very casual place. I thought it was odd that the town owned the restaurant, but apparently any profits go into a fund for the kids.
After Lambert I completed my ride into Sydney, a relatively large town. I stopped in the local museum, which had a nice art show featuring work of Nancy Cawdrey, a Montana artist. I particularly liked her dyed silk paintings: view some of it at www.nancycawdrey.com
When I left the museum I bumped into Mike (see previous postings) coming out of a grocery store. He had arrived earlier in the day, and was about to leave to go another 10 miles or so.
I checked into a motel and found a laundrymat. After dinner, I flagged down two bicyclists, Josh and Natalie (pictured below, when I get the photo posted), who were making a beeline from Portland, Oregon to Buffalo, NY.
Day 61 (7/16): Circle to Richey, MT
Mileage: 32.2; 1,634 total
Had a lazy morning, but I was recovering from yesterday's ride and I also had to wait until noon for the library to open. I left town about 2:30 PM, for the relatively short ride to Richey. The rolling hills continued, but they were not as bad as those of the previous day. Arrived in Richey at 7 PM, just as the only restaurant was closing for the evening. They wouldn't cook anything for me, but did let me buy a bowl of vegatable soup and a couple of doughnuts, which were sufficient.
I set my tent up in the town park, about a mile out of town. I fixed breakfast there, and was on the road by 8 AM the next morning.
Had a lazy morning, but I was recovering from yesterday's ride and I also had to wait until noon for the library to open. I left town about 2:30 PM, for the relatively short ride to Richey. The rolling hills continued, but they were not as bad as those of the previous day. Arrived in Richey at 7 PM, just as the only restaurant was closing for the evening. They wouldn't cook anything for me, but did let me buy a bowl of vegatable soup and a couple of doughnuts, which were sufficient.
I set my tent up in the town park, about a mile out of town. I fixed breakfast there, and was on the road by 8 AM the next morning.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The "Big Open," Montana
In prior posts I have mentioned how few people there are in many of the areas of Montana that I have been bicycling through. In total, Montana has a population of about 1 million people spread over about 145 thousand square miles, for a density of about 2.3 people per square mile. This compares to Brooklyn, NY, as an extreme on the other end of the spectrum, that has about 2.5 million people spread over just under 100 square miles, for a density of about 35 thousand people per square mile.
The eastern part of Montana is the least populated. For example, Garfield County has a population of about 1,000 people, with a population density of only about 0.25 people per square mile. It's county seat, Jordan, where I stayed last night, has about 300 people. Garfield County is in the heart of this area called the "Big Open." It is a vast area of large ranches, where apparently the ranchers have a difficult time ekeing out a living in the arid conditions.
There is a movement afoot, apparently advocated by at least one local rancher as well as by the federal government, to convert a large section of the Big Open, about 15,000 square miles, into a national game refuge with buffalo, antelope, elk, deer, etc. The idea is to restore this section of the plains so that the vegatation and wildlife are consistent with what was here 200 years ago. This would be the U.S.'s "Serengetti."
The local residents tend to be a very independent sort, distrustful of big government and eager to continue their way of life, difficult as it may be. They do not favor the idea of a government game refuge. I can see their point of view. But I also think it would be wonderful to convert this area into what it was like 200 years ago. Perhaps some way can be found to fairly compensate these local people for their land or, preferably, to find a way for these residents to work and thrive within a large game refuge, giving safari-type tours and so forth. I sure would like my children and grandchildren to be able to come to see the land as Lewis & Clark saw it.
The eastern part of Montana is the least populated. For example, Garfield County has a population of about 1,000 people, with a population density of only about 0.25 people per square mile. It's county seat, Jordan, where I stayed last night, has about 300 people. Garfield County is in the heart of this area called the "Big Open." It is a vast area of large ranches, where apparently the ranchers have a difficult time ekeing out a living in the arid conditions.
There is a movement afoot, apparently advocated by at least one local rancher as well as by the federal government, to convert a large section of the Big Open, about 15,000 square miles, into a national game refuge with buffalo, antelope, elk, deer, etc. The idea is to restore this section of the plains so that the vegatation and wildlife are consistent with what was here 200 years ago. This would be the U.S.'s "Serengetti."
The local residents tend to be a very independent sort, distrustful of big government and eager to continue their way of life, difficult as it may be. They do not favor the idea of a government game refuge. I can see their point of view. But I also think it would be wonderful to convert this area into what it was like 200 years ago. Perhaps some way can be found to fairly compensate these local people for their land or, preferably, to find a way for these residents to work and thrive within a large game refuge, giving safari-type tours and so forth. I sure would like my children and grandchildren to be able to come to see the land as Lewis & Clark saw it.
Day 60 (7/15): Jordan to Circle, MT
Mileage: 69.6; 1,602 total
This was the longest (both in miles but especially in terms of time spent pedaling), and one of the more strenuous, days that I have had. It was characterized by continuously rolling hills and a fairly significant headwind for most of the trip. This kept my average speed down to only 8.3 mph, so that meant more than 8 hours of pedaling.
I was fortunate to be accompanied by Mike (see previous posts). He stuck with me the whole way and offered lots of encouragement. I slowed him down some, but not really too much. Also, for about half of the way we rode with Bob and Kathy, a couple from Blacksburg, Virginia who started in Seattle and are headed home; they each ride recumbents.
We got started relatively early, at about 7:30 PM. At a bit past the half-way point there was a rest stop, with running water, so we stopped for lunch there and spent about two hours, I guess, before continuing on. I need to get in the habit of doing this more often: starting early and taking a siesta during the heat of the day.
Mike and I split the cost of a $33 motel room, the last vacancy in town. He got off to an early start this morning. I slept late, recovering from yesterday's ride, and hung around town until the library opened at noon. I am only going to bike about 30 miles today, so, other than traveling in the heat of the day, my late start should work out alright.
This was the longest (both in miles but especially in terms of time spent pedaling), and one of the more strenuous, days that I have had. It was characterized by continuously rolling hills and a fairly significant headwind for most of the trip. This kept my average speed down to only 8.3 mph, so that meant more than 8 hours of pedaling.
I was fortunate to be accompanied by Mike (see previous posts). He stuck with me the whole way and offered lots of encouragement. I slowed him down some, but not really too much. Also, for about half of the way we rode with Bob and Kathy, a couple from Blacksburg, Virginia who started in Seattle and are headed home; they each ride recumbents.
We got started relatively early, at about 7:30 PM. At a bit past the half-way point there was a rest stop, with running water, so we stopped for lunch there and spent about two hours, I guess, before continuing on. I need to get in the habit of doing this more often: starting early and taking a siesta during the heat of the day.
Mike and I split the cost of a $33 motel room, the last vacancy in town. He got off to an early start this morning. I slept late, recovering from yesterday's ride, and hung around town until the library opened at noon. I am only going to bike about 30 miles today, so, other than traveling in the heat of the day, my late start should work out alright.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Day 59 (July 14): Sand Springs to Jordan, MT
Mileage: 33.2; 1,532 total
This was quite an easy day. But towns/motels/campgrounds are few and far between in this part of Montana, both Mike (see prior posting) and I thought our options were fairly limited. We had each concluded that it would be good to have an easy day today, with what will probably be a much harder day to follow.
As I have said before, the terrain out here consists of rolling hills. Today, everytime I would reach the crest of one hill there would be another hill looming not too far in front of me. None of the hills were particularly steep, but there never seemed to be any long stretches that were flat or downhill.
When I got into town I found both Phil and Mike in the town park, talking to a local newspaper reporter, Carla. In this little town of about 300, having a couple of bicyclists show up is news, I guess, and when I arrived she was happy to be able to talk with me, also. Her editor, Janice, showed up also, to take some photos. It turns out that Carla had done some serious bicycling herself: she went to the University of Maine, and after graduation she and a friend, another woman, bicycled from Maine to Montana. Carla stayed out here, and for many years taught in one-room school houses in the area; she said she never had more than 13 students, covering grades 1 through 8.
Phil pressed ahead in the early afternoon.
Mike and I went to the local museum (dinosaurs are the big thing out here) and are splitting the cost of a motel room tonight.
Note in regard to Montana traffic fatalities: In an e-mail, Jeff Y. informed me that over the past few years Montana has had a death rate, per miles driven, that is about 60% higher than the national average.
This was quite an easy day. But towns/motels/campgrounds are few and far between in this part of Montana, both Mike (see prior posting) and I thought our options were fairly limited. We had each concluded that it would be good to have an easy day today, with what will probably be a much harder day to follow.
As I have said before, the terrain out here consists of rolling hills. Today, everytime I would reach the crest of one hill there would be another hill looming not too far in front of me. None of the hills were particularly steep, but there never seemed to be any long stretches that were flat or downhill.
When I got into town I found both Phil and Mike in the town park, talking to a local newspaper reporter, Carla. In this little town of about 300, having a couple of bicyclists show up is news, I guess, and when I arrived she was happy to be able to talk with me, also. Her editor, Janice, showed up also, to take some photos. It turns out that Carla had done some serious bicycling herself: she went to the University of Maine, and after graduation she and a friend, another woman, bicycled from Maine to Montana. Carla stayed out here, and for many years taught in one-room school houses in the area; she said she never had more than 13 students, covering grades 1 through 8.
Phil pressed ahead in the early afternoon.
Mike and I went to the local museum (dinosaurs are the big thing out here) and are splitting the cost of a motel room tonight.
Note in regard to Montana traffic fatalities: In an e-mail, Jeff Y. informed me that over the past few years Montana has had a death rate, per miles driven, that is about 60% higher than the national average.
Day 58 (July 13): Winnett to Sand Springs, MT
Mileage: 45.6; 1,499 total
This wasn't a very long ride, but the terrain in Eastern Montana is 0ne of rolling hills, one after the other, and so 45 miles turned out to be a reasonably hard day. I was glad to find a shady area at a rest stop along the highway, and napped for about 1.5 hours on a picnic table during the early afternoon.
Sand Springs consists of a building that houses a Post Office, a General Store and restaurant, and a gas station; with a small house next door. Everything was closed on Sunday, the day I arrived. The information on my bicycle map indicated that camping was allowed behind the store, so I knocked on the door of the house to enquire, and an elderly lady said that I was welcome to pitch my tent behind the store, and she explained that she didn't charge anything because she was happy to help out bicyclists. There was a men's room attached to the building, and a water faucet, so I had everything I needed.
I fixed a meal of Hormel Chile w/Beans and boiled rice (eat your heart out, Dana F.).
The sun doesn't set until about 10 PM, and it stays fairly hot until about 9 PM, so I was sitting in a chair in the shade in front of the store in the late evening when Mike, the bicyclist whom I had met in Great Falls, pulled in. He camped there, also.
The woman who ran the place had told me that she would open the General Store and restaurant at about 8 AM, but that she didn't serve breakfast (she only served pre-made sandwiches and microwaved pizza). So I got to cook for myself again, and had oatmeal. Meanwhile, as Mike and I were packing up at a about 8 AM another bicyclist, Phil from Wisconsin, pulled in for a few minutes. He had spent the night at the rest stop, where I had taken a nap the previous day. But he left shortly, and then Mike left, and then I left about one hour later. Mike and I were planning on just a short ride over to Jordan, but Phil was expecting to continue further.
This wasn't a very long ride, but the terrain in Eastern Montana is 0ne of rolling hills, one after the other, and so 45 miles turned out to be a reasonably hard day. I was glad to find a shady area at a rest stop along the highway, and napped for about 1.5 hours on a picnic table during the early afternoon.
Sand Springs consists of a building that houses a Post Office, a General Store and restaurant, and a gas station; with a small house next door. Everything was closed on Sunday, the day I arrived. The information on my bicycle map indicated that camping was allowed behind the store, so I knocked on the door of the house to enquire, and an elderly lady said that I was welcome to pitch my tent behind the store, and she explained that she didn't charge anything because she was happy to help out bicyclists. There was a men's room attached to the building, and a water faucet, so I had everything I needed.
I fixed a meal of Hormel Chile w/Beans and boiled rice (eat your heart out, Dana F.).
The sun doesn't set until about 10 PM, and it stays fairly hot until about 9 PM, so I was sitting in a chair in the shade in front of the store in the late evening when Mike, the bicyclist whom I had met in Great Falls, pulled in. He camped there, also.
The woman who ran the place had told me that she would open the General Store and restaurant at about 8 AM, but that she didn't serve breakfast (she only served pre-made sandwiches and microwaved pizza). So I got to cook for myself again, and had oatmeal. Meanwhile, as Mike and I were packing up at a about 8 AM another bicyclist, Phil from Wisconsin, pulled in for a few minutes. He had spent the night at the rest stop, where I had taken a nap the previous day. But he left shortly, and then Mike left, and then I left about one hour later. Mike and I were planning on just a short ride over to Jordan, but Phil was expecting to continue further.
Day 57 (July 12): Grass Range to Winnett, MT
Mileage: 26.2; 1,454 total
My cousins dropped me off in Grass Range, where they had picked me up several days before, in the late afternoon. I had an easy ride over to Winnett, where I stayed in a little motel (I was the only person there). Winnett used to be a bustling town many years ago, during the little oil boom in Petroleum County, Mt., but there is very little there now. I believe they cater to hunters.
My cousins dropped me off in Grass Range, where they had picked me up several days before, in the late afternoon. I had an easy ride over to Winnett, where I stayed in a little motel (I was the only person there). Winnett used to be a bustling town many years ago, during the little oil boom in Petroleum County, Mt., but there is very little there now. I believe they cater to hunters.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Departing BIllings
The past few days in Billings have been great. I have slept for many, many hours, and have eaten well! And I have had a wonderful time talking with Elin and Clint, and getting to know Henny. Elin is my youngest cousin, and because she went to school out west, and then lived out west most of her married life, I had never really spent much time with her and Clint. Since becoming adults, I think the only times I would see Elin, and her family, were every five years at a big family reunion that is always so crowded that it is hard to actually get to know anyone!
And although I had met Henny at the last family reunion I never really got to know her at all. It has been nice to be able to get to know her, and hear her stories about growing up out west after immigrating from Germany as a young child.
Billings is a pleasant city of about 100,000. Elin and Clint have only lived here about two years, but they are thinking of retiring here, and I can understand why. While here, Elin and Henny and I toured the Moss Mansion (built in 1906; exceptionally nice!), the Billings Art Museum, and the interesting and tragic Big Horn Battlefield National Park (Custer's last stand). Plus, I got a lot of little things taken care of: a tune-up for my bike; a haircut; some shopping; blood tests, with the results to be mailed to my NYC physicians.
But my time is running out now, and I need to get packed up and ready to leave. Soon we are driving the 100 miles back up to Grass Range, where I will continue my bicycle trip.
And although I had met Henny at the last family reunion I never really got to know her at all. It has been nice to be able to get to know her, and hear her stories about growing up out west after immigrating from Germany as a young child.
Billings is a pleasant city of about 100,000. Elin and Clint have only lived here about two years, but they are thinking of retiring here, and I can understand why. While here, Elin and Henny and I toured the Moss Mansion (built in 1906; exceptionally nice!), the Billings Art Museum, and the interesting and tragic Big Horn Battlefield National Park (Custer's last stand). Plus, I got a lot of little things taken care of: a tune-up for my bike; a haircut; some shopping; blood tests, with the results to be mailed to my NYC physicians.
But my time is running out now, and I need to get packed up and ready to leave. Soon we are driving the 100 miles back up to Grass Range, where I will continue my bicycle trip.
Responding to Some Questions
Ted Z. recently asked a number of "technical" questions about the ride. I cannot find his original email, but will respond to as many of them as I can remember.
1. What's my average speed? Only about 9 miles an hour, overall. Some days I will average a bit higher, such as 10 or 11 miles an hour, but many days are much slower. Maybe this will increase as I get into a flatter part of the country.
2. Do my arms get tired from being in the same position all the time? I haven't noticed any significant arm soreness. I do change my grip frequently, so my arm position frequently changes. I never ride in a "tucked" position for very long, and normally am in a semi-upright position with my hands at the front of the dropped handlebars, by the brake levers.
3. What is the maximum speed I have hit? 50.5 mph. I am not a daredevil, and normally I am braking continually on steep descents. On the second day of my trip I was on a nice straight descent on a good road, without other traffic, and let my speed build up to 39.8 mph, at which point the bike was shimmying and I slowed down. Various other times I was in the range of 40 to 41 miles an hour. Then, last week on my way into Great Falls I found that I had hit 44.3 miles an hour on a smooth downhill run. A few days later, going from Great Falls to Fort Benton, I was descending a long straight hill on a smooth surfaced road, with a nice tail-wind, and was surprised to look down and see that I was going 45 mph; so I got into a more streamlined position and let the speed creep up to 50.5 mph before slowing down. I felt very comfortaable and secure on the bike at this speed, but I doubt that I will exceed that, and have no particular desire to do so.
Court P. asked a couple of questions:
1. On a hot day, have I ever been tempted to jump into one of the waterways that I have photographed? No....and the reason is that in most cases the swim would involve climbing down a steep bank to the river, then wading out through rocks into a fast moving current of ice-cold water. I think if I passed an actual "swimming hole," I would be tempted.
2. Have I thought about how my life would have been different if I had been raised in Montana instead of on the East Coast? Or if I had married a Montanan and settled out here? Yes...I don't think you can help wonder about such things. And for me personally I have often wondered what life would have been like if Leslie and I had decided to stay in Alaska, as I had somewhat wanted to do, after getting out of the Army. It is interesting to speculate about such things. I don't know the answer, but suspect that I would be pretty much the same person, but with some different interests. If I were to move to Montana in the future, I know one thing that would change: I would definitely learn to fish!
1. What's my average speed? Only about 9 miles an hour, overall. Some days I will average a bit higher, such as 10 or 11 miles an hour, but many days are much slower. Maybe this will increase as I get into a flatter part of the country.
2. Do my arms get tired from being in the same position all the time? I haven't noticed any significant arm soreness. I do change my grip frequently, so my arm position frequently changes. I never ride in a "tucked" position for very long, and normally am in a semi-upright position with my hands at the front of the dropped handlebars, by the brake levers.
3. What is the maximum speed I have hit? 50.5 mph. I am not a daredevil, and normally I am braking continually on steep descents. On the second day of my trip I was on a nice straight descent on a good road, without other traffic, and let my speed build up to 39.8 mph, at which point the bike was shimmying and I slowed down. Various other times I was in the range of 40 to 41 miles an hour. Then, last week on my way into Great Falls I found that I had hit 44.3 miles an hour on a smooth downhill run. A few days later, going from Great Falls to Fort Benton, I was descending a long straight hill on a smooth surfaced road, with a nice tail-wind, and was surprised to look down and see that I was going 45 mph; so I got into a more streamlined position and let the speed creep up to 50.5 mph before slowing down. I felt very comfortaable and secure on the bike at this speed, but I doubt that I will exceed that, and have no particular desire to do so.
Court P. asked a couple of questions:
1. On a hot day, have I ever been tempted to jump into one of the waterways that I have photographed? No....and the reason is that in most cases the swim would involve climbing down a steep bank to the river, then wading out through rocks into a fast moving current of ice-cold water. I think if I passed an actual "swimming hole," I would be tempted.
2. Have I thought about how my life would have been different if I had been raised in Montana instead of on the East Coast? Or if I had married a Montanan and settled out here? Yes...I don't think you can help wonder about such things. And for me personally I have often wondered what life would have been like if Leslie and I had decided to stay in Alaska, as I had somewhat wanted to do, after getting out of the Army. It is interesting to speculate about such things. I don't know the answer, but suspect that I would be pretty much the same person, but with some different interests. If I were to move to Montana in the future, I know one thing that would change: I would definitely learn to fish!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Morbid Maunderings
In my July 1 posting about Day 44 I said I would write more, later, about the 20 miles of busy road that I encountered when I left Three Forks, MT.
The traffic conditions were the worst that I have encountered on this trip. There was heavy traffic, with lots of large recreational vehicles and pick-up trucks, many of which were towing trailers with boats, motorcycles, or all-terrain vehcles. This was Sunday traffic returning from a weekend of fishing, etc., and I, confined to a narrow shoulder, couldn't help but wonder how many of the drivers whizzing past me had been out earlier in the day, combining drinking with their fishing, or how many may have still been hung-over from heavy partying the night before.
On May 19, the third day of this bicycle trip, I had passed a roadside "cross" marking the site of a traffic fatality. I had driven past these many times, of course, in cars, but this was the first one that I had seen on the bike trip and the first time that I stopped to look at one of them and read the inscription on the cross. I took a picture of it, and resolved to take a picture of every such cross that I saw on this bike trip.
Through Oregon, Washington, and Idaho I passed these crosses from time to time. In case some readers are not familiar with them, I should explain that they are crosses (I have never seen any other religious symbol, such as a Star of David, Star and Crescent, or Jain Hand, used in this way) that are erected by family members of people killed in accidents. They are constructed in various ways, usually of wood but sometimes of metal, and typically show the name of the victim(s) as well as the date of birth and the date of death. Some days I didn't see any; other days I would see four or five or even more. Each time I spotted one I stopped and added it to my "photo collection."
When I got to Montana the situation changed -- the crosses became more numerous, and they were all uniform: an impersonal metal cross, painted white with no inscriptions, mounted on a metal fence post. I recently found out that the crosses are placed by the American Legion, which started this program in 1953. Throughout the state, each American Legion "post" is responsible for the crosses in its territory; some posts do not participate in the program, but most do. This program is endorsed by the state, and the crosses are intended not to memorialize the deceased, but to warn the living to drive carefully.
I don't know whether the frequency of crosses in Montana is due to the fact that virtually all fatalities are marked (whereas in other states it is discretionary on the part of the family), due to the fact that they have been placed since 1953 and are relatively permanent, or due to the fact that there is a higher-than-average fatality rate among Montana drivers. I suspect all three factors come into play. My understanding is that until recent years there was no speed limit in Montana, so drivers were used to driving fast and still do. Also, because there is a lot of relatively long distance driving -- for example, it might be 50 miles to drive from your ranch to the nearest town -- I suspect there is a high incidence of driving and drinking beer at the same time. Finally, many of the roads are narrow with hardly any shoulder -- one slip on a snowy day, and you are likely to have killed yourself.
On the day I rode from Three Forks to Helena I had to stop about 25 times to photograph the crosses. Many of the crosses were multiple ones, with two (or more) crosses on one post to indicate two (or more) people had been killed in one accident. Most of these death sites were on the 20 mile stretch from Three Forks to Townsend, and there was one brief stretch, starting at the south end of a bridge over the Missouri River and continuing for about two miles, during which I had to stop for about ten photographs.
I don't know whether or not Montana's program of placing crosses at the scenes of fatal accidents is effective in terms of encouraging people to drive carefully. I do know, however, that they had a very sobering effect on me, riding my bicycle on the narrow shoulder of this busy road.
Note: Most of my riding in Montana has been on rural roads with very little traffic. It is true that these roads generally have narrow shoulders, but they have so little traffic that I feel very safe. It is not unusual to encounter only one or two cars in half an hour, for example. And the drivers are usually very friendly: when approaching from the opposite direction, they invariably raise a hand to say "hello" to me.
The traffic conditions were the worst that I have encountered on this trip. There was heavy traffic, with lots of large recreational vehicles and pick-up trucks, many of which were towing trailers with boats, motorcycles, or all-terrain vehcles. This was Sunday traffic returning from a weekend of fishing, etc., and I, confined to a narrow shoulder, couldn't help but wonder how many of the drivers whizzing past me had been out earlier in the day, combining drinking with their fishing, or how many may have still been hung-over from heavy partying the night before.
On May 19, the third day of this bicycle trip, I had passed a roadside "cross" marking the site of a traffic fatality. I had driven past these many times, of course, in cars, but this was the first one that I had seen on the bike trip and the first time that I stopped to look at one of them and read the inscription on the cross. I took a picture of it, and resolved to take a picture of every such cross that I saw on this bike trip.
Through Oregon, Washington, and Idaho I passed these crosses from time to time. In case some readers are not familiar with them, I should explain that they are crosses (I have never seen any other religious symbol, such as a Star of David, Star and Crescent, or Jain Hand, used in this way) that are erected by family members of people killed in accidents. They are constructed in various ways, usually of wood but sometimes of metal, and typically show the name of the victim(s) as well as the date of birth and the date of death. Some days I didn't see any; other days I would see four or five or even more. Each time I spotted one I stopped and added it to my "photo collection."
When I got to Montana the situation changed -- the crosses became more numerous, and they were all uniform: an impersonal metal cross, painted white with no inscriptions, mounted on a metal fence post. I recently found out that the crosses are placed by the American Legion, which started this program in 1953. Throughout the state, each American Legion "post" is responsible for the crosses in its territory; some posts do not participate in the program, but most do. This program is endorsed by the state, and the crosses are intended not to memorialize the deceased, but to warn the living to drive carefully.
I don't know whether the frequency of crosses in Montana is due to the fact that virtually all fatalities are marked (whereas in other states it is discretionary on the part of the family), due to the fact that they have been placed since 1953 and are relatively permanent, or due to the fact that there is a higher-than-average fatality rate among Montana drivers. I suspect all three factors come into play. My understanding is that until recent years there was no speed limit in Montana, so drivers were used to driving fast and still do. Also, because there is a lot of relatively long distance driving -- for example, it might be 50 miles to drive from your ranch to the nearest town -- I suspect there is a high incidence of driving and drinking beer at the same time. Finally, many of the roads are narrow with hardly any shoulder -- one slip on a snowy day, and you are likely to have killed yourself.
On the day I rode from Three Forks to Helena I had to stop about 25 times to photograph the crosses. Many of the crosses were multiple ones, with two (or more) crosses on one post to indicate two (or more) people had been killed in one accident. Most of these death sites were on the 20 mile stretch from Three Forks to Townsend, and there was one brief stretch, starting at the south end of a bridge over the Missouri River and continuing for about two miles, during which I had to stop for about ten photographs.
I don't know whether or not Montana's program of placing crosses at the scenes of fatal accidents is effective in terms of encouraging people to drive carefully. I do know, however, that they had a very sobering effect on me, riding my bicycle on the narrow shoulder of this busy road.
Note: Most of my riding in Montana has been on rural roads with very little traffic. It is true that these roads generally have narrow shoulders, but they have so little traffic that I feel very safe. It is not unusual to encounter only one or two cars in half an hour, for example. And the drivers are usually very friendly: when approaching from the opposite direction, they invariably raise a hand to say "hello" to me.
Riding from Great Falls to Ft. Benton to Denton to Lewistown to Grass Range, Mt.
When I left Great Falls I was entering the Great Plains, and I had expected it to be relatively flat. I was definitely wrong. The terrain is characterized by rolling hills, with mountain ranges and buttes on the horizon. And it was punctuated by the ocassional deep canyon that would suddenly appear before you, providing a fast descent followed by a long climb. Earlier, when I had been in the mountains, I had given myself plenty of rest before and after long climbs. But I hadn't realized that I would encounter so many hills on the Plains, and after the first three days of this my leg muscles were as sore as they have ever been.
There were lots of deer, both white-tailed and mule deer, en route, but whenever I would stop for a photo they would run off.
Ft. Benton is a scenic old town. In the late 1800s this was a bustling little trade center, because it marked the furthest point of steamboat travel, upstream, on the Missouri River. There were miners flooding in to the gold fields, homesteaders, ranchers, trappers, and so forth, all coming through Montana on their way to make their fortunes; Indians coming into town to trade furs; and of course gold and furs being shipped downriver, to St. Louis. There is a nice old hotel in town, the Grand Union dating from the 1880, but it was booked solid with tourists; I put up my tent in the town campground, and then returned to the hotel for a good dinner.
Denton is a very small community. When I arrived in town the motel looked closed (and if it had been open I don't know if I would have wanted to pay to stay there) and the one restaurant had closed for the day. I pitched my tent in a picnic area near the town pool, ate some trail mix, and slept quite well.
Lewistown is a relatively good-sized town, with several motels and restaurants. After cooling down for a couple of hours over an early dinner (salad bar; fruit cup; milkshake) I checked into a cheap motel and slept for about 12 hours. Reading an historic roadside sign the next day, I was very surprised to learn that Lewistown was NOT named for Lewis of "Lewis & Clark," but was named for a Major Lewis who commanded the local fort in the 1850s. I also read that Lewistown is the geographic center of Montana, so I was relieved to find out that I would soon be getting into Eastern Montana, which people have told me will be flatter.
Grass Range is very small town. Its "Main Street" could be renamed "Only Street." But I met my cousin Elin there, and Henny (wife of another cousin), and we enjoyed a good lunch before driving south to Billings.
Note: A few photos will eventually follow. Due to technical problems I cannot get the posted immediately.
Twisted Sister Update
In reference to my July 4 posting about Twisted Sister: The highway sign does say "Twisted Sister," but there is no known connection to the rock band of that name.
I spoke to a woman at the Montana Department of Transportation who is responsible for the "Adopt a Highway Program" in the vicinity of Great Falls. She said that anyone who elects to be responsible for the litter clean-up along a section of highway can choose whatever name they want, and in this case the person, or persons, chose to be identified as "Twisted Sister" although there is no connection to the rock band.
I spoke to a woman at the Montana Department of Transportation who is responsible for the "Adopt a Highway Program" in the vicinity of Great Falls. She said that anyone who elects to be responsible for the litter clean-up along a section of highway can choose whatever name they want, and in this case the person, or persons, chose to be identified as "Twisted Sister" although there is no connection to the rock band.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Day 53 (July 8): Lewistown to Grass Range, MT
Mileage: 32.9; 1,427 total
This was a relatively short ride. I have a cousin, Elin, who lives in Billings, MT, which is about 100 miles due south of Grass Range. She met me in Grass Range and drove me down to Billings where I will be relaxing for several days and visiting with Elin, her husband Clint, and with Henny, who is the wife of Joel, another cousin and one of Elin's five brothers.
Joel, incidentally, is in the Utah National Guard at the age of 57 (somehow he manages to keep passing the annual physical exam!), and was recently sent to Kuwait for a year (or more?). He is sweltering in the desert near the Iraqi border, working with men half his age, in a support unit that ships supplies into Iraq. I know this isn't where he wants to be, but that's where is orders sent him. The family's thoughts are with you, Joel, and we wish you a safe tour of duty and a speedy return.
I intend to post more, later, about my ride through Central Montana over the past several days.
This was a relatively short ride. I have a cousin, Elin, who lives in Billings, MT, which is about 100 miles due south of Grass Range. She met me in Grass Range and drove me down to Billings where I will be relaxing for several days and visiting with Elin, her husband Clint, and with Henny, who is the wife of Joel, another cousin and one of Elin's five brothers.
Joel, incidentally, is in the Utah National Guard at the age of 57 (somehow he manages to keep passing the annual physical exam!), and was recently sent to Kuwait for a year (or more?). He is sweltering in the desert near the Iraqi border, working with men half his age, in a support unit that ships supplies into Iraq. I know this isn't where he wants to be, but that's where is orders sent him. The family's thoughts are with you, Joel, and we wish you a safe tour of duty and a speedy return.
I intend to post more, later, about my ride through Central Montana over the past several days.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Day 52 (July 7): Denton to Lewistown, MT
Mileage: 40.0; 1,395 total
More will follow about the rides after Great Falls. At this point let me just say that the Great Plains, in this part of Montana, are much hillier than I had expected.
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Day 51: (July 6): Ft. Benton to Denton, MT
Mileage: 64.7; 1,355 Total
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Day 50 (July 5): Great Falls to Ft. Benton, MT
Mileage: 57.6; 1,290 total
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Friday, July 4, 2008
Day 49: Celebrating the 4th of July in Great Falls
This morning I walked down to the main street of town and watched the town parade. (See photo, below). Watching a parade is a pretty good way to get a sense of a small town, I think.
After the parade I phoned Max (see Day 47 and Day 48 posts, if you don't know who Max is), who was going to pick me up and take me to lunch. While I was waiting for Max, I flagged down Mike (see photo), a Mississippi River Pilot from Bayfield, a small resort town on Lake Superior in Wisconsin, who is bicycling from Seaside, Oregon to Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts. As we were talking Max arrived, and after he met Mike he called the Fairfield Inn motel and arranged for Mike to get a $35/night rate, also!
Max then drove me to a nice restaurant, where his wife Florence, daughter Kelly, and son-in-law Mark were waiting to have lunch with us. I was very happy to have a chance to meet Florence, Kelly, and Mark, and we had a good lunch and good conversation. (Seee their photo, below.) Kelly and Mark, incidentally, travel to NYC for a trade show once a year, and I hope they give Leslie and me a chance to show them around the next time they are there.
After lunch, Max got a ride home with his family and had me borrow his car again to go to the "First Peoples' Buffalo Jump State Park," about 15 miles out of town. Before horses were introduced to North America by the Spanish, Native Americans would drive buffalo herds off cliffs (buffalo jumps) in order to harvest what they needed to survive. The Plains Indians were dependent on the buffalo for food, clothing, tools, utensils, tipis, etc., etc., etc. The Park has an excellent Interpretive Center with a lot of explanation about how the buffalo herds were lured to the jump sites (picture a teenage boy disguised with the skin of a buffalo calf), and how the Indians used the buffalo for so many things. I also drove up to the top of the buffalo jump to get a sense of how the buffalo, which are near-sighted, were tricked into running off the cliff. I really enjoyed this Park, and it wouldn't have been possible without the use of Max's car.
After returning the car to Max, he drove me back to the motel. I met up with Mike, and we had dinner together. Mike and I are going in the same direction for awhile, and I hope to have a chance to ride with him for some of the way.
After the parade I phoned Max (see Day 47 and Day 48 posts, if you don't know who Max is), who was going to pick me up and take me to lunch. While I was waiting for Max, I flagged down Mike (see photo), a Mississippi River Pilot from Bayfield, a small resort town on Lake Superior in Wisconsin, who is bicycling from Seaside, Oregon to Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts. As we were talking Max arrived, and after he met Mike he called the Fairfield Inn motel and arranged for Mike to get a $35/night rate, also!
Max then drove me to a nice restaurant, where his wife Florence, daughter Kelly, and son-in-law Mark were waiting to have lunch with us. I was very happy to have a chance to meet Florence, Kelly, and Mark, and we had a good lunch and good conversation. (Seee their photo, below.) Kelly and Mark, incidentally, travel to NYC for a trade show once a year, and I hope they give Leslie and me a chance to show them around the next time they are there.
After lunch, Max got a ride home with his family and had me borrow his car again to go to the "First Peoples' Buffalo Jump State Park," about 15 miles out of town. Before horses were introduced to North America by the Spanish, Native Americans would drive buffalo herds off cliffs (buffalo jumps) in order to harvest what they needed to survive. The Plains Indians were dependent on the buffalo for food, clothing, tools, utensils, tipis, etc., etc., etc. The Park has an excellent Interpretive Center with a lot of explanation about how the buffalo herds were lured to the jump sites (picture a teenage boy disguised with the skin of a buffalo calf), and how the Indians used the buffalo for so many things. I also drove up to the top of the buffalo jump to get a sense of how the buffalo, which are near-sighted, were tricked into running off the cliff. I really enjoyed this Park, and it wouldn't have been possible without the use of Max's car.
After returning the car to Max, he drove me back to the motel. I met up with Mike, and we had dinner together. Mike and I are going in the same direction for awhile, and I hope to have a chance to ride with him for some of the way.
Twisted Sister
My Day 47 post has a paragraph toward the end that states that there are "Adopt a Highway" signs in Montana (as in most states), identifying who had volunteered to keep the highway free of litter for the next couple of miles. Anyone who read this paragraph must have thought that either (a) my trip was getting terribly boring, without much to report; or (b) I had gone crazy. Actually, the answer is (c): I am too absent-minded, and had intended to delete that paragraph but forgot to do so.
Let me explain.
I was initially going to add a sentence at the end of the paragraph that said I was very surprised to see that a section of the highway had been "adopted" by Twisted Sister. When I saw this sign, I assumed that Twisted Sister was a reference to the 1980's punk rock band of that name (I am not at all familiar with this band, but their name is one that sticks in your mind). I assumed that the band or some of its members were originally from Montana, or that maybe one or more of its members had "retired" and moved to Montana.
But then I got more skeptical, and thought that I should just delete the paragraph because I couldn't prove that the "Twisted Sister" identified on the sign was actually the rock band. For all I knew, "Twisted Sister" could be the name of a local restaurant, or a gift shop or something. But I forgot to delete the paragraph.
Maybe one of you readers can determine if the rock group Twisted Sister actually does have some connection to Montana. The sign, incidentally, was near the town of Cascade.
If this is, in fact, the rock band, then taking responsibility for keeping a section of the highway free of litter is very extraordinary. I seem to remember that Boy George was doing some street cleaning in New York City a couple of years ago, but his public service was given under court order.
Let me explain.
I was initially going to add a sentence at the end of the paragraph that said I was very surprised to see that a section of the highway had been "adopted" by Twisted Sister. When I saw this sign, I assumed that Twisted Sister was a reference to the 1980's punk rock band of that name (I am not at all familiar with this band, but their name is one that sticks in your mind). I assumed that the band or some of its members were originally from Montana, or that maybe one or more of its members had "retired" and moved to Montana.
But then I got more skeptical, and thought that I should just delete the paragraph because I couldn't prove that the "Twisted Sister" identified on the sign was actually the rock band. For all I knew, "Twisted Sister" could be the name of a local restaurant, or a gift shop or something. But I forgot to delete the paragraph.
Maybe one of you readers can determine if the rock group Twisted Sister actually does have some connection to Montana. The sign, incidentally, was near the town of Cascade.
If this is, in fact, the rock band, then taking responsibility for keeping a section of the highway free of litter is very extraordinary. I seem to remember that Boy George was doing some street cleaning in New York City a couple of years ago, but his public service was given under court order.
Day 48 (July 3): Rest Day in Great Falls
Yesterday morning Max lent me a car to use! His generous offer made my sight-seeing much easier than it would otherwise have been.
First, I went to the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center. This was really an excellent museum. They had an auditorium with programs scheduled for most of the day: I watched a Ken Burn's documentary on Lewis & Clark (especially made for the museum); a film on the portage that L & C had to do to get around the series of five waterfalls in this area (an 18 day exercise that seriously impaired their ability to get through the Rockies before winter); and an interesting and amusing lecture on the medical treatments used on the expedition (the members were lucky, I think, to have survived all the blood-lettings, etc.). I finally had to break myself away from the auditorium in order to see the museum displays, which were very good and arranged nicely in order of the expedition's trip.
Following lunch, I drove out of town about 15 miles in order to view Great Falls, the largest of the series of five waterfalls. Although there is now a dam there, you are still able to see the falls, just below the dam, pretty much as they would have looked to Lewis & Clark.
I then drove back to town and went to the Charles M. Russell Museum. Russell was a popular local resident and self-taught artist who lived from 1866 to 1926. He started out as a cow-hand, and his western art became very popular, leading to shows in NYC, Los Angeles, the Corcoran in D.C., London, Chicago, etc. I very much enjoyed seeing his colorful western scenes, and seeing how his technique changed gradually as he became more exposed to NY and European artwork.
Google "Charles M. Russell" and see his work for yourself.
Today, July 4, I am planning to watch the town parade, and hope to have lunch with Max.
First, I went to the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center. This was really an excellent museum. They had an auditorium with programs scheduled for most of the day: I watched a Ken Burn's documentary on Lewis & Clark (especially made for the museum); a film on the portage that L & C had to do to get around the series of five waterfalls in this area (an 18 day exercise that seriously impaired their ability to get through the Rockies before winter); and an interesting and amusing lecture on the medical treatments used on the expedition (the members were lucky, I think, to have survived all the blood-lettings, etc.). I finally had to break myself away from the auditorium in order to see the museum displays, which were very good and arranged nicely in order of the expedition's trip.
Following lunch, I drove out of town about 15 miles in order to view Great Falls, the largest of the series of five waterfalls. Although there is now a dam there, you are still able to see the falls, just below the dam, pretty much as they would have looked to Lewis & Clark.
I then drove back to town and went to the Charles M. Russell Museum. Russell was a popular local resident and self-taught artist who lived from 1866 to 1926. He started out as a cow-hand, and his western art became very popular, leading to shows in NYC, Los Angeles, the Corcoran in D.C., London, Chicago, etc. I very much enjoyed seeing his colorful western scenes, and seeing how his technique changed gradually as he became more exposed to NY and European artwork.
Google "Charles M. Russell" and see his work for yourself.
Today, July 4, I am planning to watch the town parade, and hope to have lunch with Max.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Day 47 (July 2): Wolf Creek to Great Falls, MT
Mileage: 62.1; 1,232 total
Before leaving this morning I was having breakfast (my standard bicycling breakfast of coffee, lots of water, two eggs, two pieces of bacon, and two pancakes) and blogging and talking to other people in the restaurant.
A gentleman named Max had struck up a conversation when he saw my bicycle. He was interested in knowing where I was going and explained that his niece's son (an engineering professor in his 30's) was on a bicycle trip from Anchorage, Alaska to some point north of the arctic circle.
Max is from Great Falls, and when he learned that was my destination today he apologized for not being able to put me up, because he had relatives coming into town, but he said maybe he could arrange for a discount at a Great Falls motel. Shortly thereafter a friend of his came in to the restaurant. Max spoke to him, and the next thing I knew his friend had called his wife, who manages Marriott's Fairfield Inn. He put his wife on the phone with me and she told me that I could have a room for the employee rate of $35/night! I explained that I was planning to stay for three nights, in order to do some sightseeing, and she said that would be fine. Montana definitely has a lot of friendly, generous people!
Toward the end of our conversation it came out that Max has a son, Joe, who is a high-school teacher in Anchorage, Alaska, as is my daughter Larissa. I spoke to Larissa this evening and she knows him...they used to teach at the same school. I will be calling Max tomorrow to get the blog address of his great-nephew, the bicyclist, and I'm sure Max will be pleasantly surprised to find out that our children are acquainted.
On the ride to Great Falls is was overcast and relatively cool, with very light rain at the start but gradually clearing up. The scenery changed dramatically, riding out of a narrow canyon into rolling hills along side the Missouri River. Then, coming over a crest of a hill, with the mountains in the distance behind me, I saw the wide, flat, expanse of the Great Plains.
Along the road today, as on most days, there were occassional signs saying something like: Adopt A Highway; Litter Cleaned Up Next 2 Miles; followed by the name of the volunteer organization taking responsibility for cleaning the highway litter.
Great Falls, population about 50,000, is he largest city I have been in since Portland, Oregon. There are a few things I want to see, including a Lewis & Clark Museum and an art museaum featuring the work of Charles Russell. I will probably hang out here until July 5.
Before leaving this morning I was having breakfast (my standard bicycling breakfast of coffee, lots of water, two eggs, two pieces of bacon, and two pancakes) and blogging and talking to other people in the restaurant.
A gentleman named Max had struck up a conversation when he saw my bicycle. He was interested in knowing where I was going and explained that his niece's son (an engineering professor in his 30's) was on a bicycle trip from Anchorage, Alaska to some point north of the arctic circle.
Max is from Great Falls, and when he learned that was my destination today he apologized for not being able to put me up, because he had relatives coming into town, but he said maybe he could arrange for a discount at a Great Falls motel. Shortly thereafter a friend of his came in to the restaurant. Max spoke to him, and the next thing I knew his friend had called his wife, who manages Marriott's Fairfield Inn. He put his wife on the phone with me and she told me that I could have a room for the employee rate of $35/night! I explained that I was planning to stay for three nights, in order to do some sightseeing, and she said that would be fine. Montana definitely has a lot of friendly, generous people!
Toward the end of our conversation it came out that Max has a son, Joe, who is a high-school teacher in Anchorage, Alaska, as is my daughter Larissa. I spoke to Larissa this evening and she knows him...they used to teach at the same school. I will be calling Max tomorrow to get the blog address of his great-nephew, the bicyclist, and I'm sure Max will be pleasantly surprised to find out that our children are acquainted.
On the ride to Great Falls is was overcast and relatively cool, with very light rain at the start but gradually clearing up. The scenery changed dramatically, riding out of a narrow canyon into rolling hills along side the Missouri River. Then, coming over a crest of a hill, with the mountains in the distance behind me, I saw the wide, flat, expanse of the Great Plains.
Along the road today, as on most days, there were occassional signs saying something like: Adopt A Highway; Litter Cleaned Up Next 2 Miles; followed by the name of the volunteer organization taking responsibility for cleaning the highway litter.
Great Falls, population about 50,000, is he largest city I have been in since Portland, Oregon. There are a few things I want to see, including a Lewis & Clark Museum and an art museaum featuring the work of Charles Russell. I will probably hang out here until July 5.
Tragedy at Wolf Creek
Disappointment sometimes comes crashing down when your hopes are
highest. Part of life is the bitter realization that the dream you
have been chasing will not materialize, that the prize you have
persistently pursued is not attainable.
highest. Part of life is the bitter realization that the dream you
have been chasing will not materialize, that the prize you have
persistently pursued is not attainable.
Some weeks ago, back in Walla Walla, Washington, Kathy told me that
the best huckleberry milkshake she had ever had was in Wolf Creek, and
that I should definitely go there and get one. Little did Kathy know
what an impact "best huckleberry milkshake" would have on me.
For weeks, as I labored through the heat and over the mountain passes,
that shake was on my mind.
I fretted over the fact that huckleberries are not yet in season, and
so the ice cream would be made with frozen berries. Had Kathie's been
based on fresh berries? Is fresh v. frozen the difference between
"best" and "mediocre"?
I wondered about Kathy's taste in ice cream. She certainly seemed to
be a bright, well-traveled, sophisticated woman, with enough years
behind her to have developed a discriminating taste for huckleberry
shakes. But did she appreciate the importance of freshly made ice
cream, made with only the best ingredients? Did her palate rebel
against preservatives?
Wolf Creek has a population of about 1,000, large enough to have more
than one establishment selling shakes. There could easily be two or
three such places. How would I find the best? Rely on the advice of
a local? Or sample all offerings, and then return to the best place,
for seconds and thirds?
I arrived in Wolf Creek and asked where I could get a milkshake. I was
told that the ice cream place had been closed for a long time. There
is no place to buy a shake in Wolf Creek!
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Day 46 (July 1): Helena to Wolf Creek, MT
Mileage: 37.3; 1,170 total
A fairly short ride, but given that I had a headwind most of the way, coupled with a 700 foot climb coming out of the Helena valley, I was satisfied with my day's work.
This was the first day since entering Montana about two weeks ago that the sky was overcast. In fact it sprinkled now and then and threatened thundestorm. But the cloud cover kept the temp down to about 80, which was a nice change.
With eight miles to go I entered a canyon (photo), which was a very scenic, quiet, route into Wolf's Creek.
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Good Things on Way to Helena
In yesterday 's brief posting I noted that I had some wonderful
experiences on way to Helena. Here's a list:
experiences on way to Helena. Here's a list:
1. Perfectly clear weather.
2. Antelope posing for their photos,
3. Nice views of osprey along the Missouri River, both in, and
circling above, their nests.
4. Managing to spit out, before swallowing, a particularly large
insect that flew into my open mouth when I was on a fast downhill run.
5. Surviving the first 20 miles (to Townsend), which was on a busy
road with only about a two-foot shoulder (more on this in a later post).
6. Staying well-hydrated in the near 100 degree heat.
7. Setting my one-day mileage record for this trip.
8. Enjoying the hospitality of Brian, who invited me to his house in
Helena for dinner. He made pizza, from scratch, on his grill, and it
was very good! Brian is a friend of Steve R ., whom I met in Idaho
when he was kayaking. Thanks for the introduction, Steve!
Brian, originally from Buffalo, came to Montana 12 yesrs ago to go to
college, liked it here, and has stayed except for a recent one-year
stint with the Peace Core in Jamaica.
9. Being invited to spend the night at the home of Pam and Mark! I
was stopped by the side of the road about 20 miles from Helena, taking
a brief break, when Pam pulled up on her motorcycle (a Yamaha Virago)
to see if I needed help. I didn't, but when she heard I was headed to
Helena she invited me to stay at her house, explaining that she and
Mark had done a lot of bicycling (their honeymoon, 20 years ago, had
been a bicycle trip from Missoula to Alaska!) and that they frequently
took in bicyclists.
So, I hurried to Helena, got cleaned up and had dinner with Brian, and
then peddled over to Pam's, to meet Mark, get acquainted with both of
them, and get a good night's sleep.
Pam's offer of a place to sleep was especially generous considering
that she was on the way home from a 12 day, solo, 4,000 motorcycle
trip thru the west and southwest, and Mark was returning from a few
days at a bag-piping competition in Billings.
Note: When in Idaho I also had met Steve W., one of three
motorcyclists I met at the Lochsa Lodge. Steve owns a ranch near
Helena, and had sent me an email asking me to contact him if I needed
anything when passing thru Helena. So, between Steve W, Brian, Pam
and Mark, I felt very well supported in Helena! And, as a percent of
the population, I now know more people in Helena than in NYC.
10. Last but not least, I developed a a marketing prospect for an
interesting project for my "pre-retirement" actuarial associates (Dave
F, Ted Z. -- expect a separate email).
Photos of scenery, Brian, and Pam & Mark to follow, below.
Sent from my iPhone
Walt Wright
917 783 6540
Walterwright@brooklynny.us
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)