Surrey to Rugby, ND
What’s that Rick said? “Let’s ride to Surrey where it will be quiet”? Well, last night the group of teens near our city park campsite shot off probably $2,000 worth of fireworks—worthy of a whole city’s display. Didn’t end until after midnight. The sound effects in the tent were weird—some sounded like a spark had ignited the tent. Because we three were at the edge of the field where they were shooting off the fireworks, we were nervous—and awake—until the last KABOOM!
We got off about 7 am. and rode 38 miles before we found a store and place to stop. The edges of Hwy 2 are often prairie potholes and are filled with lotus and cattails, yellow-headed and red-winged blackbirds, shorebirds, ducks, grebes, coots, killdeer, curlews, snipe, etc., all with young at this time of year. There were breeding ducks of all types everywhere. I predict a particularly good year for coots. I saw black terns, avocets, yellow warbler, American redstart, eastern bluebird, and orchard oriole—without binoculars or effort.
Our route has flattened considerably, and that is a relief, but we are still battling headwinds, though not as brutal as two days ago. Today we were often without a shoulder on this four-lane, 70-mph road, but it’s early and it’s Sunday, so we pedaled three miles before we saw a car, and it westbound. All the eastbound traffic moved considerately and safely to the outside lane.
We got off about 7 am. and rode 38 miles before we found a store and place to stop. The edges of Hwy 2 are often prairie potholes and are filled with lotus and cattails, yellow-headed and red-winged blackbirds, shorebirds, ducks, grebes, coots, killdeer, curlews, snipe, etc., all with young at this time of year. There were breeding ducks of all types everywhere. I predict a particularly good year for coots. I saw black terns, avocets, yellow warbler, American redstart, eastern bluebird, and orchard oriole—without binoculars or effort.
Our route has flattened considerably, and that is a relief, but we are still battling headwinds, though not as brutal as two days ago. Today we were often without a shoulder on this four-lane, 70-mph road, but it’s early and it’s Sunday, so we pedaled three miles before we saw a car, and it westbound. All the eastbound traffic moved considerately and safely to the outside lane.
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| Bill's bike before a hay bale before a canola field |
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| Prairie pothole with a black tern over it and a canola field behind; the inset shot is the best close-up I could get of the tern, which was heckling me |
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| Canola |
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| Towner sounded so cowboy west; we rode through it but now I cannot bring it to mind |
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| Actually do not know where I took this pic; may not have been on this day |
When we got to Rugby we took some pix of each other posing at the exact geographical center of North America and then set up our camp in a nearby park. Our campground was nice and shady and had clean bathrooms and showers, and a washer/dryer, to say nothing about being located behind a roadside liquor store and near a little shopping mall where we bought dinner provisions.
We set up camp and went grocery shopping. Bill and I were happy to make dinner of a mishmash of coleslaw, hotdogs, sardines and cheese & crackers. But Rick hadn’t had his broccoli fix for the day so decided to supplement this fare with pasta with clam sauce plus broccoli. The broccoli was okay — Rick’s daily nod to “healthy”
dining — but the poor guy didn't have a clue re the clam sauce & pasta. He over-cooked thin spaghetti and threw in a can of smoked OYSTERS and a quarter cup of OLIVE OIL! This unpalatable fare didn’t go over well . . .
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| My BOB flags peeking out from behind a large cottonwood tree--the blue one is the OK flag |
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| Bill getting caught up on his journal; my tent in the shade of the cottonwoods |
[While I was showering, Rick and Bill each bought a bottle of “sipping whiskey” at the liquor store. Both got sloppily drunk, Rick inviting me into his tent and asking to feel my legs after I’d showered; Bill saying inappropriate things to two young girls who are camped nearby. I like a cold beer or a glass of wine as much as anyone, but unfortunately, alcohol is ruining my fun on this trip. The guys, and particularly Kevin, equate beer with masculinity (a bullseye for beer ads) and drink until drunk. If I don’t drink with the pack, I am considered to be disapproving, and in fact, I guess I am. I’ll have to admit it. When I’m sober and they are drunk, their drunken talk and behavior seems juvenile. If I drank each day and evening with them, I would be unable to cover the next day’s miles. Somehow drinking and long-distance cycling seem incompatible to me.]
A father, mother, and their two daughters pulled into camp after dinner. The dad’s on a recumbent but the other three are on upright bikes. One girl, Erin, is 12 and her sister, Kelly Ann, is 14 or 15. Both are carrying large stuffed toys on their rear racks. These double for pillows they told me. They biked the Cascades last year to their home in Spokane; this year they left from Spokane and will bicycle to family in Maryland. What a test of family love and cohesiveness.
We are at a nice campsite in the shade of some very big, old cottonwoods.
Tomorrow we pedal to Devil’s Lake.
