Fully restored, and such an honor to ride in!
I had told myself that I would take it easy- a self prescribed rest day of sorts in order to get my legs ready for the next week. However, the near perfect weather and windless afternoon made it more difficult not to want to ride. My "rest day" ended up being nearly 90 miles. When it came time to start looking for a place to camp, I noticed a sign pointing to Lewis and Clark State Park, just out of Onawa. I still had a few hours of daylight, and figured I'd take a swim and maybe have the evening to myself. When I pulled up, it was RV city. Hundreds of huge campers filled the park, and if that wasn't enough to turn me away, the fact that there was no tent camping price- just electrical hookups deterred me even more. No way was I going to justify spending $20 to be surrounded by a bunch of tourists. I decided to take my chances and keep moving.
You can't see it too well, but the only other traffic consisted of farm equipment
About 10 miles down the road, I found a sign pointing to a campground an additional 4 miles down a dirt road, supposedly on the river. I figured what the hell, might as well take a look. As soon as I arrived, a friendly woman came up and said that tent camping was $12 and proceeded to talk to me about where I was from, where I was going, the usual. There were about a dozen campers, mostly the super rural farmer-type of families who "don't talk English too good". But damnit if they weren't some of the friendliest people. After enjoying some freshly fried catfish that the people in the RV next door caught that morning, I took a walk along the river, found a spot and had some quality reading time.
My idea of a Saturday night party...
Although it got a bit rowdy after sundown (due to a lack of people and abundance of alcohol), I got a good night of sleep. Woke up a little later than usual, so I hurried to pack up and get out. As I was spreading some peanut butter on a slice of bread, the woman who runs the campsite rushed out of the house, explaining that it "ain't no bed and breakfast" but that she wanted to make sure I had some food in my stomach before leaving.
Two hard boiled eggs and a yogurt, included with my stay!
I had heard that it was supposed to be windy, but what I didn't expect was that it was coming from the southeast. For the majority of the day, I was on a road heading northwest. Perfect day much? My panniers acted as sails, sending me off at an average of 15 mph throughout the entire day. At a few stretches I would maintain close to 20 mph at almost no effort! I had originally been in contact with somebody through warmshowers, but by lunchtime I had made 60 miles so I decided to take advantage and push on further. Kevin, the would-be host invited me to stop by anyways to fill my bottles. When I got there, it turned out to be his son's graduation party. He introduced me to people and insisted I get something to eat, which I graciously accepted. After the usual bike talk, I was on my way once again.
When I reached my destination of Yankton, my odometer showed 117 miles. Not bad whatsoever. I found a park and was about ready to set up when I saw a couple hippy looking guys (ages 30ish and 60ish?) and asked about the regulations, to which they notified me about the strict rangers around. Basically, they'd find me and kick me out. However, they told me that I might have some luck at the west end, and insisted that I take a few beers with me! I mean, it'd be rude not to accept, right?
After biking around the area for a couple hours, I found a spot tucked away down a maintenance road and got set up right as the sun went down.
I woke up to some rumbling off in the distance. Knowing that it was about to rain, I hurried to pack and set off, barely making it to a shelter in the campground before the sky started to dump buckets of water. Soon enough, the sun came out and I left the city behind, into a stretch sparsely populated. It was hot. How hot?
Considering the fact that it had rained that morning, this was not a good sign. Not only was I slowly starting to realize that my water was running out and that there was no shade, there were bugs flying all over my face. Even the birds seemed to look at me and judge my decision making skills. After passing the Yankton Sioux reservation, I reached a transportation building and filled my bottles. The people inside seemed to understand how desperate I was and quickly ushered me in to the kitchen where cold water was available.
My destination for that night, Pickstown, had two campgrounds. One was run by the parks department, and like every other one in South Dakota, charges $20 a night, even for a tent. The other was a primitive site, though right on the river, my map showed that there was no potable water available. I figured I'd stop in the "real" campsite, fill my bottles, use the bathroom and then enjoy a night of peace and quiet. However, by a stroke of luck, the only people I saw in the campsite were two cycle tourists! After seeing me, they quickly told me to pitch my tent and that I was more than welcome to stay on their site for the night. After a much needed shower, we combined food to make a fantastic mixture of pasta, beans onions and spices. It really is amazing what you consider to be a delicacy while on the road.
Janet and Todd, the cyclists, were doing a shorter tour in the area but live near the Cascade Mountains. After seeing some pictures of the property, they insisted that I come and visit if I'm ever I the area. Future bike trip anyone? We made breakfast and coffee the next morning, and I took off a little earlier than they did, since I had a warmshowers host planned out in Chamberlain- 115 miles away.
I had already knocked back a few 100+ mile days so I figured that this would be no different. Wrong. 20 miles in, and my back tire was flat. Faaaaaaaantastic. What made it ironic was that Janet was telling me about the horrible time she had flat after flat for days on end, and I, the wise cyclist who invested in Conti Gatorskins, haven't had one.
As if that wasn't enough, 10 miles later my derailleur lost tension and my chain got caught- I the middle of a decently sized hill. Hurray for more setbacks. This was going to be a long day.
I hit 70 miles around 6pm, and though hey, that's not too bad. Until I remembered that I had another 40 to go. Luckily my host for the night, Jessica, was extremely understanding, offering if I needed anything and that I shouldn't worry about time.
Mentally more than anything I was exhausted. I hadn't learned my lesson from the previous day and ran out of water again, this time 30 miles from the next town. I was on a straight road for 20 of those, and could only see one farmhouse. There was a car parked outside, so I knocked on the door and was not only given water, but a few cookies and even offered dinner! I accepted the cookies, since anything sugary was good at that point, but explained that I had plenty of miles to go, to which they offered to drive me in (which I seriously considered but knew that I'd regret it come morning, for not actually biking the whole way).
The area known as Bijou Hills, shortly before running out of water
When I woke up, it felt like it was before 5, so I got ready to turn over and go back to sleep. That is, until I saw that clock that read 7:30. Shit! I had another 100 miles to cover (I was fortunate enough to have yet another warmshowers host in Pierre). I still had to pack up and stop at a grocery store to restock on necessities before going back out into the abyss.
About 15 miles in, I hit a pretty awesome milestone. 1,000 miles!
Although exciting at first, I soon forgot about it when I realized how the day would look.
The route I was taking was long. It started with a big uphill, a slight downhill, and then a 20 mile climb through the hot, desolate Brule Sioux Indian reservation. My mind was gone. After hardly enough sleep, my body wasn't too happy with how much I'd been pushing it lately. But since I was so far ahead of schedule, I vowed to start taking some shorter days to give my legs an overdue rest.
The thin barb wire didn't give me any comfort when this guy started looking towards me
After the long climb, it was much easier. I was told by Mary and Bruce, my hosts in Pierre to give them a call when I get there for either directions if I was feeling up for a hill, or for a ride in a nice comfy pickup truck. I chose the latter. Why? As soon as I got to the city line, my back tire went flat again.
So that's where I sit. I get to go to the bike shop tomorrow to stock up on a couple tubes, have my tire looked at and make sure I'm fully equipped with patches. The next stretch of my journey swings me north, through primitive reservation country with services few and far apart.
See you later civilization!
No comments:
Post a Comment