Home, Home on the Range

Hate to start a blog post with something I’ve already written about, but you’ll understand. We had a buffalo in our campsite. Again. This time, he sneaked up on me and snorted from about five feet away … there was a picnic table between him and me, fortunately. This time, my camera was not available, and everyone else was still asleep. Can you imagine a half-ton of bison sneaking up on you, then acting surprised and snorting when he sees you? He stared at me for about half a second, then went storming off through three other campsites looking like he wanted to knock something over. Fortunately, everyone was still in their tents, and the buffalo finally decided it was time to go down to the Little Missouri River for a drink.

On the road, we also saw both deer and antelope playing, so I guess that means that we're living the song!

Since yesterday was our day off, we spent the afternoon exploring town. The usual tourist trinkets for the most part, but Pat found a gem … the Harold Schafer Resource Center, e.g. museum. He’s the guy ,who started Gold Bond label, with Mister Bubble, Glass Wax, etc. to his name. He bought up the town of Medora when it was in decline, and redid the entire downtown as a sort of a tribute to life in the old west. Which leads me to the explanation for the next picture. We looked for a good spot for dinner, somewhere where everyone could have whatever they liked. They had elk and buffalo burgers, pizza, surf and turf, fish and chips, etc. Along with their dinners, Ryan and Jonathan wanted root beer. Well, I mentioned that this town was a bit of a tribute to the old west. That meant that they had old fashioned Sioux City Sarsaparilla instead of root beer. You can see from the knowing twinkle in his eye that Jonathan thoroughly enjoyed the treat! Sitting in an old western-style saloon dining room, drinking sarsaparilla.

We went home early to get a good night’s sleep, because we were expecting a hard ride today … 5 miles of hills exiting the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, then another 86 miles to the tiny town of Glen Ulin. But we were fortunate. We had our first good tailwind of the journey, and the roads were practically empty. The North Dakota oil boom is in hiatus because of the international price per barrel, so North Dakota is getting a break from the boom, and we are catching a break in the truck traffic! We stopped in Dickenson for a mid-morning break, visiting the family of Ryan’s mom’s boyfriend. That meant a bit of time socializing, and savoring a delicious glass of ice water … very welcome in the 90 degree heat.

We then went to town of Richardton for lunch. There is a monastery there, but only Pat had a chance to see what she reported as being a very impressive abbey, especially for out in the middle of North Dakota. Us riders pulled into the city park for lunch, and had two surprises. First, we found “Don’s.” That was all. Just the name on the storefront, nothing inside. Hope nobody takes that too symbolically!

Then we encounter another bicycle tourist in the park. I explained to him briefly about the charitable purpose of our bike ride (raising funds for Operation Comfort Warrior, as explained on our Website and Facebook page), but he stopped me mid-sentence. Coincidence of coincidences, I had spoken to him at length last autumn when I first started looking for other riders to hook up with. I circled three ads in Adventure Cycling magazine, and had to eliminate one rider because he was in Australia and his planned trip had already fallen through. The second person I had contacted was Ron Occhiuto, a high school English teacher from Virginia. We had a long conversation about riding across America, but eventually I had chosen to go with my third option, Bike Trip America. And here, in the middle of a small park in a small town in North Dakota, I was face-to-face with Ron! I love coincidences, and it heartened me to know that he had been able to put together his own personal tour of America, even though I hadn’t been able to travel with him. Now, his tent is set up just opposite mine at a campsite in Glen Ullin, North Dakota. Small world. 

 We also saw the two Israeli cyclists on our way into Glen Ulin. Not sure what happened to them, but we thought they would be well on their way south by now. I was able to say hello as we cycled past them, but not enough time for a conversation. We also passed about 30 cyclists riding for Multiple Sclerosis ... they were headed in the opposite direction, so all we could do is wave to them. They were scattered over about 15 miles of road, so they are riding much more independently during the day than we are able to do, since we are responsible for three sixteen-year-old boys. C'est la vie.