Covid Cross Day #29 Hazelton, ND to New Salem, ND
Covid Cross Day #29
July 2, 2020
Hazelton, ND to New Salem, ND 87 Miles
Start 7:34 AM Finish 8:22 PM
Ride Time 7:28
Ascent 1923 Feet
Descent 1687 Feet
Tour Total 2503 Miles
I slept well last night camping in the City Park in Hazelton. There was a bright street light in the park that, several times, I mistook for the sunrise. Motor traffic from nearby Highway 83 could be heard throughout the night. I slept in my sleeping bag liner. It got chilly towards morning and I had forgotten that my sleeping bag was right next to me, still in it’s sack. There were bird droppings all over my tent from having set it up underneath a tree. Last night, after finishing my report, I blocked out the rest of my itinerary. I heard from Emily and Charlotte who didn’t make it to Gackle. They spent the night in Napolean, and I learned that they had had a flat earlier in the day.
I stopped at the CENEX Station where I got an egg sandwich, Starbucks Frappuccino, and orange juice. Because of COVID, the clerk wouldn’t let me sit inside at a table. As last night’s forecast predicted, it was windy this morning and I was wearing my sweater. Fortunately the wind was out of the south and my first segment led me straight north, so I had a fantastic tailwind. I was going 20-25 miles an hour effortlessly. I had three feet of level shoulder between the rumble strip and the slant. There were a few wispy clouds in the sky and the rising sun was strong.
I pulled over to take off my sweater and put on sunscreen. I only felt the wind when it was blowing against me. When I was traveling with the wind I didn't feel it, and I was getting hot. There was quite a bit of traffic on US Highway 83. It was a two-lane highway, and motorized traffic strayed far away from me. With oncoming traffic their passing was a concern. I had a wide shoulder but I was going fast. The deep cut rumble strips were intense at twenty-five miles an hour on my thin tires. One wrong move and it might be over. I usually only wiped out when I was doing something stupid.
Coming into Moffit I caught my mistake from last year and took a left on Moffit Road going west. I now had a strong crosswind. The difference between a crosswind and a tail wind was 15 miles an hour. The benefit of Moffit Road was less traffic. The drawback was that there was no shoulder. I passed a roadside business advertising different types of smoked meat and jerky. Two large dogs started barking, a black one and a tan variety. I was confident they wouldn’t follow me, but they started to advance. I fumbled for my pepper spray, but the crosswind was intense and my bags were starting to blow out of my handlebar bag. I thought for sure I was in the clear and turned around to see the large tan dog hobbling behind me, not able to keep up. I was only doing 10 miles an hour because of the crosswind. I put the pepper spray away, and yelled at him to go home.
There was a large hill formation to the west which the road zigzagged around. I was still about 150 miles from the Badlands. At the second hairpin curve going around the land formation was an anti-abortion billboard. Abortion is normal. All of these divisive issues pit people against one another. I started to observe sagebrush growing alongside the shoulder.
“As symbols of emancipation and individual freedom, bikes have not surprisingly played a visible role in protests following the killing of Mr. Floyd.” I participated in the bike protests during the 2004 NYC Republican Convention in New York. At the time, I had a beater bike that I used for protest rides, and it was eventually seized. The police take protesters’ bikes and I wouldn’t want to risk loosing my Surly. I would definitely have to get another beater when I got back to Brooklyn. The protest rides were invigorating. Cycling was emancipating.
Snap! A rear spoke broke. This was the first spoke I’d ever broken on my Surly. It was on the drive side and stress from the cross wind definitely contributed. I took a right on State Highway 1804 down into the Missouri River Valley. I was now on the National Lewis and Clark Trail as well as the ACA Lewis and Clark route. My plan was now to go to a bike shop in Bismarck and get my spoke repaired. I had the tools and parts, but my chain probably needed replacement as well, so why not kill two birds. At one point the shoulder was overtaken by grass, so I rode to the left of the white line. Dramatic puffy cotton clouds filled the horizon to the west. I was riding up and down on gentle rolling hills.
I remembered twin buttes from last year and I spotted them from a mile away. They seemed out of place but foretold the landscape to come. It drove me crazy that people were able to build houses so close to these extraordinary geographical features. I was stair-stepping north and west, and just as I was making a turn north a deer pranced across the road in front of me. All of a sudden I started seeing houses and buildings in the distance, indicating that I was nearing Bismarck. I came up over a hill and the city was laid out before me in the distance.
The route took me away from University Drive, the main strip. I rode through the Missouri floodplain with canola growing on one side of the road and corn on the other. On Washington Street I spotted a bike trail alongside the ugly new track housing. There wasn’t much of a shoulder so I used the trail. I was now entering the Bismarck sprawl. This was a much more gentle approach than what I had done last year.
I went to Sheets All Sport, a huge sports and recreation store with a bike counter. The mechanic measured my chain and determined that it was toast. He said that he could fix my spoke, but didn’t have a nine speed chain in stock. I plotted a route to the next bike shop on the Riverside Trail that wove though a park alongside the Missouri River. I passed the Dakota Zoo and the Super Slide Amusement Park. It was a fantastic bike trail.
Bike shops always allow touring cyclists to the front of the line. I had called 701 Cycle and Sport to verify they had a nine speed chain, and it was waiting on the counter when I arrived. Jered the mechanic was extremely helpful. After swapping my chain he replaced my spoke and tru-ed my rear wheel. He said that my rear wheel had been completely out of whack and the spokes where too loose on the non-drive side. I spent over an hour waiting and was directed to the coffee shop where I ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and a mango smoothie. Emily and Charlotte had been here yesterday. In addition to the other repairs, Jered tightened my headset and made a few other adjustments. Including a new water bottle, the total came to $22. It would have been well over $100 in New York.
The next stop was the North Dakota State Capital Visitors Center, where I purchased postcards. Nobody sends postcards anymore except for elderly people such as myself. Nobody sells postcards anymore, but I went through this routine last year. Thirty lucky people would soon receive snail mail post cards. If you didn't get one, don't worry, because more would follow. I loved sending post cards - and I loved receiving them. My final stop was the Laughing Sun Brewery, where I had gone last year after eastbound cyclist Kirt's suggestion. They had completely changed their beer menu, and it took a bit of sampling to zero in on this year's selection. I enjoyed 3 pints of Lovely Rita and wished that I hadn't eaten at the bicycle shop because Laughing Sun's pulled pork sandwiches were amazing.
After the brewery I found a bike lane that took me out of town. I rode over the Missouri River which I would be criss-crossing several times on my way west to the Continental Divide. There were a few boats out in the river. People were out enjoying the nice day. It seemed like it was going to storm but the weather forecast promised me a slim clear shot to my destination. On the west side of the river I took bike paths through Mandan. I passed a ginormous waterpark that would have been fun to experience. I passed Mandan Park where there was a grandstand along with RVs and horse trailers. Preparations were being made for a July Fourth Rodeo. There were a lot of trailer homes in Mandan as well as in Bismarck. North Dakota had recently experienced great wealth from the Bakken Oil Fields up north, but poverty here was visible. I wound my way out of town and crossed over a huge train yard. Fire crackers could be heard popping in the distance.
I got onto County Highway 39 heading west. There were railroad tracks to my left and construction equipment and welding outfits in between. Cornfields were to my right. There were rolling hills in both directions. A life-size 32-piece cattle drive silhouette had been erected up on the hilltop that I remembered from last year, in memory of Buddy Kahl. I crossed the Heart River and then slowly climbed back out of the Missouri River Valley. I passed a stinky roadkill skunk.
At 5 PM Central Daylight Time I was scheduled to attend a Smack Mellon Five Max Zoom presentation. I was on the board of Smack Mellon, a non profit Brookyn art gallery. I found a spot on the side of the road that allowed me to lean against a pole. Brooklyn friends seemed alarmed with the dark clouds collecting behind me. They were worried a tornado was coming. The clouds were dark, but it was nothing severe. It was surreal to be teleporting back to Brooklyn. I felt so free and emancipated. Back home people seemed imprisoned. Sorry artist friends for these next comments, but my goodness - so many of you are wimps. Toughen up! Question everything. Stop marching in lock step. So many of you are pitiful.
After the amazing Smack Mellon presentation I could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning on the horizon. The sky was dark lavender and foreboding, but it seemed that the system would pass me to the north. I predicted that I would get to my destination without a drop. The wind was still from the south but seemed more intense. I-94 was just a mile to the north, and I could see it see the cars and trucks streaming east and west.
Six miles west of New Salem at County Road 84 to Judson, the lightning begin to pick up to the west and southwest. It was starting to sprinkle and the wind got really bad. The gusts were so strong that I was forced to the side of the road. Heavy rain hit immediately, and I pulled out my rain jacket as fast as I could. I was in the middle of nowhere, and there was no cover. I experienced heavy rain, wind, and hail. There were flashes of lightening and loud cracks of thunder. Fingers crossed there would be no tornado. I sat on the side of the road and curled myself into a ball, trying to protect myself while being pelted by marble-sized hail stones. My back faced the wind, and experienced the brunt of the pelting. My shoes filled with hailstones. I was totally soaking wet. There was not a single motor vehicle that passed me during the worst of it. It was scary. I felt like I was in the middle of the ocean. The surrounding blowing grass undulated like turbulent waves. After the worst of the storm had passed, motorized traffic again began to appear. A jeep stopped and then a pick-up truck pulled over. They asked if I needed a ride to New Salem. I only had five miles to go and was already wet, so I declined. The storm was slowing down. There could have been a tornado or I could have been struck by lightning, and that would have been it. It was an intense experience that I'd never forget.
At long last I could see New Salem spelled out of rocks on the butte, along with the water tower, and the grain elevator. I had forgotten about the giant cow! Thank goodness, I had made it to my destination and a safe haven. I rode to the The Buck ‘N’ Rooster, switching things up from last year. There was an old fellow wearing a cowboy hat who asked if I’d been out in the rain. I had a good story, and he couldn't believe I had cycled here from New York City.
I needed a beer and the bartender offered me Bud, Bud Light, Coors; ie: cow piss, goat piss, camel piss. WTF! I ordered a bottle of Budweiser and a warmed-up pepperoni pizza. I was completely soaking wet. I noticed another cooler on far side of the bar, where the bartender told me they kept the fancy beer. Bartenders - if you're reading this, when a cyclist comes into your bar, offer them the fancy beer. Cyclists don't like camel piss. I ordered a Blue Moon - still far from perfect.
This was the stretch last year where I ate pizza three nights in a row. Thank goodness last night I had found an alternative. I was going to order a few bottles of beer for take-out with some bags of chips, when I discovered there was beer on tap. WTF?! Buck ‘N’ Rooster had Laughing Sun Sinister on tap. Again - bartenders - offer cyclists local beers on tap. We are discerning and like to support local breweries. I stayed for several more pints. The bartender told me about her bow hunting and we talked about COVID and the Mandan rodeo. There was a large TURD 2020 banner at the front of the bar.
Sidd and Chris got in trouble last night in Wilbaux. They had slept in the city park without registering. The sheriff woke them up in the middle of the night. I had stayed in New Salem last year and knew exactly where to camp. I rode over to the campground and set up in a picnic shed.
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