I get an early start and after packing up my gear, I have a quick breakfast of 6 mini donuts and a 20 ounce mocha at the Town Pump gas station in Cut Bank. As I believe I've mentioned previously, I am not a nutritional role model.

It's a calm day. Yesterday's tremendous tailwind is gone but at least there isn't a headwind and Eddy and I roll over the gently undulating Montana terrain. I think about stopping to take photographs but basically the eastward looking shot I'd taken yesterday afternoon could just be replicated endlessly to give a feel for the terrain. It's a kind of horizon that can either make you give in to despair or, to use Dar Williams' phrase "feel your soul go beyond your skin." I find the distance oddly comfortable. I roll on.

Around 7:00 AM the horizon is broken by Shelby MT and at 7:10 AM I stop at the McDonalds for second breakfast. After breakfast I call my folks, letting them know that I'm over the divide and headed east. My dad in particular has been worried about my crossing the mountains but I know the real challenge lies in the miles of high plain country that are still ahead of me. But it's good to hear a familiar voice across a wire.

There's about 10 miles road construction before the town of Chester and the pavement is all ripped up. It's slow going but the town of Chester itself is nice and around 11:00 AM I stop at lovely roadside park that had been built by the local Lions Club. I eat lunch from my supplies, fill up on water, switch to my short sleeve jersey and head back down the road.

At 3:00 PM I stop at the Wendy's in Havre. The day is clear and warm but not too hot. My allergies are starting to kick in a bit but antihistamine keeps my eyes from watering too much.

I see lots of gophers today. They stand by the side of the road or sometimes in the road and most times they squeak and run away as I go by or when a car comes past. But there's a fine line between gopher bravery and gopher death and I see one stand on the center line and try to stare down an eighteen wheeler. It's not a course of action I'd recommend and this little gopher is rather abruptly removed from the gene pool.

At 6:30 PM I stop in a little town called Harlem and I call Christine. I tell her that this Harlem isn't quite like the one we remember from New York. I'm planning on pressing on at least until the next town but as the towns get smaller pay phones get harder to find. Harlem MT seems to consist of this store and the motel next door and by Montana standards, it's quite a place.

I've finished talking to Christine and I'm eating my supper snack when a fellow walks up to me and asks "Riding cross country?"

"Well, halfway," I reply, "I'm headed to Minnesota."

This guy introduces himself, he's Tom Booth and he's also bike touring. "I'm staying at the motel next door" he says. I tell him that I'm planning on pushing on at least until the next town tonight. We chat for a bit about how his tour is going, and compare a few notes on our respective routes. He tells me he froze coming down Sherman Pass but I tell him the weather was warmer when I went across it. It turns out our routes have been pretty similar, but not quite identical. The conversation turns to gear and Tom says "It looks like you're traveling pretty light."

"Yeah, I reply, "I've only got so much vacation time, so I've gotta run pretty fast and light."

"When did you leave?" he asks.

"I left Issaquah, which is a little town about 17 miles east of Seattle, on June 15th."

Tom's eyes go wide. "Holy Shit!" he says, "I left Port Townsend on June 7th! And I left the guys I was with 'cause they were too slow!"

I see a lot of questions starting to roll around in Tom's head and the first one that pops out is "so are you staying in motels or camping or what?"

"Mostly free camping," I say, "I stayed in a motel in Kalispell because of a thunderstorm, but I've camped the other nights. I had a buddy with me the first couple of days and we camped by the river in Winthrop the first night."

I hadn't thought Tom's eyes could get any wider but they do. "Holy Shit!" he says again, "You were in Winthrop the first night? That's like what..."

"Some over 200 miles from Issaquah," I say, trying to be helpful. I don't even try to pretend that I'm not really enjoying this exchange.

Tom is trying desperately to wrap his head around what I'm telling him. "But those 200 miles include both Rainy and Washington Passes..."

"Well, it was a long day," I admit. "I run fewer miles most days."

"Where'd you sleep the second night?" Tom asks.

"Coleville," I reply.

"Holy..." Tom just kind of lets his thought sputter out. "That means you went over Loup Loup and Wauconda and Sherman Passes. All in one day?"

"All in one day," I assure him.

Tom just shakes his head and looks over my bike. "Man, you really are traveling light..." His eyes lock on the rear dropout and Eddy's empty derailleur hanger. "Holy Shit! You don't have any gears!"

"Well," I correct him, "I've got one. Two if I flip the wheel over, but I never actually flip the wheel over. It's a fixed gear. It doesn't coast."

"Wow," Tom says, "I thought I was going fast, but you are flying. You know there's an Adventure Cycling group ahead of us?"

I tell him that no, I didn't know that.

"Yeah," he says, "they left Anacortes May 27th and they're only a day or two ahead of us. You'll probably catch up with 'em tomorrow!"

"Well," I say, "I really have to get going."

"Ooh, right." Tom says, "Well, good luck. Man you are flying!"

I give him a scrap of paper with my email address and website. "Drop me a note when you get done. I want to find out how the rest of your trip goes." Tom waves and I roll off down the road.

At 9:00 PM I stop for the night in Dodson. There's a city park here with a public faucet but the park is right by the highway and there are a lot of mosquitoes. And while the park doesn't have any signs prohibiting camping, it really doesn't look set up for camping either. I roll around this little town and behind the Dodson school I find a nice hidden niche beside a fuel tank. The gap is just big enough for my bike and my bivy and there aren't nearly as many mosquitoes here. I settle in quickly and go to sleep.

Forward to June 21, 2002 -- Dodson MT to Wolf Point MT

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