Covid Cross Day #30 New Salem, ND to Dickinson, ND

Covid Cross Day #30

July 3, 2020

New Salem, ND to Dickinson, ND 83 Miles

Start 8:08 AM Finish 11:54 PM

Ride Time 7:08

Ascent 1504 Feet

Descent 1656 Feet

Tour Total 2583 Miles

Details at: https://cyclemeter.com/3f1ef27914a4c684/Cycle-20200703-0808-38342

I slept well in New Salem in North Park behind Gaebe Field in the same exact picnic shelter as last year. There was electricity and I was able to recharge my devices. I strung a laundry line to dry my wet clothing. A large RV was parked in the adjoining site. I heard sprinkles on the shelter tin roof early in the morning, and took my time packing up. My shoes and socks were still wet from yesterday's storm, and donning the cold damp socks was not a great feeling.

I rode over to Tellman’s Market where I purchased five bananas, a Starbucks Frappuccino, and an orange juice. The clerk persuaded me to make the visit to Salem Sue the giant Holstein cow up on the bluff overlooking town. I couldn’t complain about the storms, because they needed the rain. There was a slight drizzle and a dark sky. I was still in shock from yesterday's hail storm. I ate my breakfast out in front of the supermarket underneath the canopy.

I followed the clerk's directions and found the gravel road across from the Dollar General. I contributed $1 to get Sue a new coat of paint, and then rode to the top of the hill following switchbacks. I passed a family in a motor vehicle from Minnesota. I was trying to take the perfect photo and my bike kept falling over. My saddle got knocked out of adjustment. Cracks of thunder rattled through the sky and it started to rain. I was exposed up on the bluff and raced down the hill to cover. Two pheasants fluttered across the road in front of me. I rode back to the campground to wait out the storm and adjust my saddle.

I was now using the Dark Sky app, which assured me the rain would be done by 10 AM. My saddle was no longer in a sweet spot, I needed sunscreen, and my iPod wasn't plugged in, yet I began my day's ride. I was on Morton County Road 139, a scenic byway and the Old Red Trail aka US Old Highway 10 Scenic Byway. I rode to the junction of Highway 86 and the ACA route directed me north to I-94 to ride on the Interstate. Glenn Ullin was fifteen miles away on County Road 139. I decided to take the Old Red Trail, hoping it wouldn’t turn to gravel. Soon afterwards I saw the End of Pavement sign.

The dirt and gravel weren’t too bad. There were some washboards and bugs. A prop plane flew overhead. Butterflies, Sandpipers, Red-tipped blackbirds, and deer flies flew around me. Deer flies started biting through my jersey and my gloves. I was doing this section of gravel for Chris and Brian, whom I was sure rode this section last year. I finally pulled over and emptied half a can of Deep Woods OFF all over my body, helmet, jersey, shorts, and shoes. It then seemed that the bug spray oil had created a lens that magnified the sun's rays. I was relishing the gorgeous surrounding features. I was beginning to see bad-land features, erosion, and grass bumps.

I noticed an eastbound freight train on the train tracks beside me. The train line went all the way to Dickinson. My grandfather grew up in Dickinson and my mom‘s family returned to visit many times. I bet this was was the same Northern Pacific train line that they traversed. The train was over a mile long and hauling coal. I started passing fields of flax. The stunning blue flowers were in bloom.

I spotted Twin Buttes from several miles away. The formations were up on a ridge that I climbed up and over. I rode right by the pointy buttes and could see Glenn Ullin several miles ahead. The gravel color turned to rust-red sienna. After a mile the gravel color returned to gray and then the asphalt pavement reappeared. This was a special route and I was so glad that I didn’t take the Interstate. There was very little motor traffic and I had the road completely to myself. It was peaceful, calm, and delightful.

I came to the intersection of State Highway 49 and was back on the route. Motorized traffic picked up heading into Glenn Ullin, population 807. Stealth rumble strips ran down the center of the shoulder and tripped me up. I was ready for a meal, but the town didn't offer much. I stopped at the CENEX station where I ordered a pepperoni pizza and a red Gatorade. Signs where posted throughout the establishment that said, "If you touch it you buy it." Locals arriving with boats hitched to their pick-up trucks were buying bags of ice and talking about catching the big one.

Coming out of Glenn Ullin, the train tracks were now on my right. A large land formation to the southwest was surrounded by grass and sienna colored gravel roads. I spotted a freight train coming towards me hauling a mile-long load of coal. I got the conductor to blow the horn and ring the bell. I crossed under I-94 and was now to the north of the Interstate. I was on County Road 139, aka US Old Highway 10, aka the Old Red Trail. I could see the water tower of Hebron, population 747, from miles away. I followed the route around the edge of town and did not go through the center. I stopped at a historical marker to commemorate an army expedition led by George Custer sent to quell hostile Sioux Indian tribes. Study your history folks. It was pretty fucked up.

An empty freight train was returning from the east. I crossed into Stark County and gained an hour as I entered Mountain Time. The reason I hadn't been bitching about the wind today was because it had been behind me. I was enjoying a mild tailwind and averaging 14-20 miles an hour. I passed Young Man's Butte, 2720' in elevation. I-94 stretched to the south and the railroad track was in between.

There was a large elevator complex and agricultural plant that I passed coming into Richardton. Tank cars were lined up on the railroad spur. They were converting grains into liquid. Downwind it smelled like bread or beer. I rode through the center of town and recognized the pharmacy where I'd stopped for a cold drink last year. Everything was closed this time, and I didn't stop. I passed the Sacred Heart Monastery that Jane had mentioned in her Crazy Guy blog post. I’m glad that I decided not to stay there. It didn't even look like it was open.

The next town was Taylor, population 148, There was a frosty beer mug icon on my map and I was hoping something would be open. Unfortunately the Sit and Bull bar didn’t seem like it had been open for awhile. It was another twenty miles to Dickinson. I passed the bicycle windmill that I remembered from last year. A short freight train pulling empty flat cars was coming west to east. I got the conductor to blow the horn. I passed numerous dinosaur threshers out in the fields. They were always arranged with others or placed in prominent places. At 2 PM Mountain time it was starting to get hot. I went up over a hill and could spot billboards far in the distance along I-94. I was getting close.

I stopped at the CENEX truck stop at the Junction of I-94 outside of Dickinson. I got myself a large Coke on ice and sat in the air-conditioning while I searched for restaurants in town. A couple who had spotted me outside of new Salem said that I was making good time. Sure! I had a tail wind! I rode through the Dickinson sprawl, passing farm implements, storage units, auto parts shops, a corral and stables, a train yard, and finally the old train depot. I had consulted Yelp for restaurants and selected El Paricutin for Mexican Food. I rode to the other side of town only to find that it had long been shuttered.

I recognized where I was from last year, and passed the laundromat where I had washed my clothes. I rode across I-94 and went to Los Cabos, which was next door to the Rodeway Inn where I stayed last year. I ordered a margarita and several Dos Equis amber ales, along with the Enchiladas Suizas, chips, and salsa. They had WiFi and I finished yesterday's report. I then rode to Phat Fish Brewery where I enjoyed several pints of Roosevelt Red Lager along with pretzels and cheese. There was axe throwing in the back room, and it was raining outside. I edited today's report and swapped out my maps. I was now on the ACA Lewis and Clark Route Section 4.

There was a light drizzle when I left the brewery. It had been raining and both my bike and the pavement were wet. People were shooting off fireworks. It was pitch black, and I used my digital map to navigate to the campsite, which was located a few miles out of town. Lightning flashed on the horizon. I found Patterson Lake Recreation Area and spotted a picnic pavilion. I set up my tent under cover and retired for the night.