Nothing Temperate About These Temperatures

Sitting at a rest stop in western Iowa yesterday and watching the Weather Channel on the TV. The sound is off, but the weather anchors (weather girls? weather presenters?) are very excited about the weathering all around the country. Rain in Texas. Heat in the East. And in the Midwest, my little piece of heaven, there's a band of cool air pushing down from Canada and into the Midwest. That, combined with a massive low pressure system over the western states is causing some turbulent conditions for Iowa, Missouri, and the surrounding areas. It's giving me a massive career flashback.

But it all returns to normal Thursday, and we can expect temperatures to increase by as much as 25 degrees in the Davenport, Iowa, area. :-/

So, the common theme of this trip has been the weather. It's been a challenge, to be sure. Fortunately, my outer gear is keeping me warm, safe, and dry. But credit for the warm and dry portion goes to my new best friend; Helly Hansen. For nearly a week I've been bundling up with a base layer that includes the Warm Freeze 1/2 Zip Top and the HH Dry Fly Pants. Seriously, they wick, they warm, they do the job. The trick lies in the use of merino wool. Helly Hansen always seemed like a trendy brand, but it works, man. I'm a convert.

So the sun returned today, though the temperatures were still a little chilly. I donned my Buzz Lightyear uniform, as Cece calls it, for the ride across the Mississippi River and all those vowel states; Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio.

I've passed a lot of distractions along the way; geological formations from the Mississipian Age in Wyoming, the Fort Hays set from "Dances with Wolves" in South Dakota, the birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder in De Smet (How can Nellie me so MEAN??), John Wayne's birthplace in Iowa, but Galesburg, Illinois, pulled me in with the birthplace of Carl Sandburg. Oh sure, Knox College hosted the first Lincoln-Webster debate, but I've always thought Lincoln to be a little too theatrical. Assassinated in a theatre--really? 

What, too soon? C'mon, did you not just read my posting about Mt Rushmore? You. Must. Go.

I've got a connection with Sandburg that goes back to 5th grade. Miss Chapman at Hollin Meadows Elementary--only the coolest teacher in the school because she used art in all her lessons--recruited me to illustrate "Fog" by Sandburg:

     The fog comes

     in on little cat feet.

     It sits looking

     over harbor and city

     on silent haunches

     and then moves on.

Poetry man.

That painting is still framed in my house. Thank you, Miss Chapman.

So, with signs pointing to Sandburg's birthplace, I wound my way through the depressed little town of Galesburg. They are trying to build a vibrant downtown, but missing out on creating a destination for Sandburg's home. Seriously. It's alongside the railroad tracks and you get to it by turning right off of  Seminary Street at Tom's Gun Shoppe (the extra "pe" adds class).

Sandburg deserves better.

By the way, this was another 500 mile day. I think the AirHawk pad has a leak. All I really know for sure is that my knees hate me right now. 

Tomorrow: "THE..."

Northern and Western States Ranked

1. Washington. You've given me sunshine. You've given me rain.

2. Idaho. I never considerd myself a neckman until I rode across yours.

3. South Dakota. Yes, I'm asking you to change. Please fix your milled roads.

4. Wyoming. Even in spite of everything you blew my way.

5. Oregon. So close, yet so far.

6. North Dakota. I just don't feel like we know each other.

Started the day in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, after a night's rest at the wonderful Jasper Stone Bed and Breakfast. The house was built in 1916 and the owner, Karen, has lovingly renovated it and restored all of the woodwork. 

Karen was extremely helpful by accommodating my request to arrive and leave a day early due to the snows in Southwest South Dakota. She's been running her home as a BnB since the fall and she runs it like she's been doing it for years. To top it off, she put her catering experience to work and delivered for a breakfast: scrambled eggs with veggies wrapped in bacon (sort of like a quiche but without the crust), fresh fruit, and gluten-free pumpkin bread. Karen: if I've mangled the description of breakfast, please let me know and I'll fix it. :-)

One of the benefits of arring a day early was sharing breakfast with Karen and the other guests. Ron, Michelle, and Laura were on their way from Missoula, where Laura just obtained her Master's Degree from the University of Montana Atheltic Training Program, to Chicago where she'll start her new job with Northwestern.

After a quick stop at St Joseph's Cathedral and the Sioux Falls Sioux Falls, I headed out for Iowa.

You'd think after 500 miles today that I'd have a clever way to wrap up this posting. But I don't. I'm beat. Time for bed.

The Best Laid Plans

6am. Wake up in my cabin. Look outside. No snow. Go back to sleep. 

7:40am. Wake up with the satisfaction that I've had a good night sleep, and that I have a light travel day ahead. Look outside. 

It's snowing. 

Crap. 

The KOA front office says more snow is expected and temperatures will be dropping through the night. I know my cue for a hasty exit when I hear it. Jack from Michigan worked a deal with the manager; if I can vacate pretty quickly they'll refund the room fee for that night. So I pack up in record time and hit the road. 

With the snow getting heavier I decide to skip out on the Crazy Horse Memorial. A shame since I've wanted to visit it for so long. But I do visit Mt Rushmore. Admission is free but parking costs $11. What the?

Mt. Rushmore deserves more time than I could give it today. With the snow falling and a potentially long day ahead, my mind was preoccupied. That said, if you haven't been You. Must. Visit. Mt Rushmore. 

It is a feat of art and engineering that has few rivals. The viewing terrace feels a little removed from the sculptures but the distance also adds to its magnificence. George will continue to weep until you arrive.

The exhibit hall could take an hour or two, if you have the time. 

Mt Rushmore is probably the most American destination outside of DC. The patriotism flows through these hallowed halls and your appreciation of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln fills your heart. In true American spirit, an enormous gift shop is strategically placed nearby. 

I bought a garish red, white and blue t-shirt featuring Mt Rushmore and will wear it everywhere. U-S-A! U-S-A! Suck it, world. 

Seriously, go visit Mt Rushmore. 

From Mt Rushmore, it was a no-nonsense day of riding. Well mostly no-nonsense. 

That's right, your are legally obliged to stop at Wall Drug in Mitchell, South Dakota. Far be it from me to be a scofflaw. 

After the bison burger, 5-cent cup of coffee and chocolate doughnut, I walked around the South of the Border of the north with only one thought: I gotta bring the family here. 

https://youtu.be/TAnPHSufwyA

Having secured a change in my accommodations in Sioux Falls (thanks Karen!). The next several hours of riding can be summed up as:

Grasslands

Grasslands

Badlands (skipped)

Gusty Winds

Enter Central Time

Grasslands

The Corn Palace

And Sioux Falls. So happy to be here. More on that later. 

For now, I must sleep. 

A Close Encounter

Yeah like I was going to entitle this posting anything but. 

Today I pilgrimaged to Devil's Tower National Monument--a destination that's been on my list since Close Encounters of the Third Kind was released in 1977. 

After a hike around the rock I rode to South Dakota, specifically Sturgis and Deadwood. The former should be visited during Bike Week. Today it looked like a carnival that wasn't quite ready for prime time. Deadwood was a treat. 

They've renovated the historic downtown and if you like westerns and/or gambling (autocorrect originally inserted "goblin") halls, this is your kind of place. Tip: the prime rib lunch buffet at the Silverado is worth the $11. 

Also worth a visit: Mt Moriah Cemetery, the final resting place of Wil Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane. 

Tomorrow: Mt Rushmore and Crazy Horse Memorial. 

Or not, it's supposed to snow tonight. 

Wyoming at 80 Degrees

If only it had been the temperature and not the angle of the Tiger as I fought side winds through 5 hours of travel. 

But hold that thought. First, the start of the day...

"We had a tornado warning yesterday!" This bit of excitement was courtesy the hostess of the hotel restaurant in Cody. She was friendly and full of sunshine this morning--all 5'2" of her. "And the day before that hail for 30-minutes!"

And with the local radar predicting rain within the next 60 minutes, it was time for me to ride east. Bit of a shame actually because Cody is a great little town (Population: 9,000 and a sneeze) and the Buffalo Bill Center of the West looks like a great way to spend a couple hours.

Between Cody and Greybull, the road was long but I enjoyed the panoramas. I didn't grasp how cold it was until I stopped for photos 30 miles outside of town.

From Greybull and a stop at the sweet little church in-town, it was on to Shell, home of Dirty Annie's and lots of paleontological sites--Wyoming is proud of its dinosaur history--and to the best part of the ride so far; Big Horn National Forest. The ride along route 14 east was full of twisties, spectacular views, and more than a few mule deer.

I didn't even mind the snow on top

From BHNF I picked up I-90 at Sheridan, which is when things got exciting. It seems that the stretch of highway between Sheridan and Moorcroft is often closed due to high winds. Today, the gusts were up to 40 miles an hour, which led to riding the Tiger at 80 degrees for most of the day and taking several unscheduled stops.

By the time I rolled into the KOA at Devil's Tower, I had 20 minutes to spare before the office closed. But the staff was very welcoming and upgraded me from a tentsite a heated cabin--snow is expected overnight.

Dinner of champions.

Missoula to Cody

The end of Day 2 finds me in Cody, WY. And I feel really smart about being here because I'm staying in a Holiday Inn Express.

The day started as it ended yesterday and continued on for 9 hours of riding... in the rain. I rode out of Missoula, in the rain. I passed through Butte, in the rain. I crossed the Continental Divide, in the rain. I stopped in Boseman, under a brief respite from the rain.

The Tiger held up really well. And I've come to believe that it is cognitively and physically impossible to ride through Montana without feeling that 90 miles an hour is normal. Hopefully, I don't end up like this guy.

Lunch in Boseman was just what the doctor ordered; bison meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and an always-full cup of coffee at Ted's Montana Grill.

As much of a surprise that Boseman turned out to be--it's really charming--so was Red Lodge, MT. Construction through the north end of town took me down side streets that revealed some really lovely Victorian homes.

Just to the east of Red Lodge and over the rise, this (below) spectacular view showed me everything I wanted about the weather (clear skies) and what I had been riding through (rain).

From here, the ride to Cody was beautiful and the roads a real treat; good traction, open vistas, and maybe 6 cars. 

World Whiskey Day!

We are starting the day in strict observance of this international holiday. 

David ordered us a round of Balvenie 12-year old scotch to precede our breakfast.