The storm blew itself out overnight and the skys are quickly clearing when I leave Wolf Point at 6:40 AM. The headwind is still blowing and the day is already getting warm when I pull into the store at Brockton. There are a couple of other bike tourists here, a couple in matching US flag jerseys who introduce themselves as Mike and Phyllis. They are heading east, all the way to Maine. Mike comments that I look like I'm travelling pretty light and asks if he can take my picture. I say sure and I give him my standard "finite vacation time" speech to explain my fast and light philosophy behind my trip to Minnesota. After Mike takes my picture I snap a picture of the two of them and have Mike take a shot of me with my camera.

Mike and Phyllis 75.09 KB

Kent alongside Hwy 2. 96.58 KB

We talk about our respective trips and when we get around to the subject of when we started, I mention that I'd left Issaquah on June 15th. "Oh. My. God." says Phyllis. Just like that. Like three separate sentences.

Mike is doing some quick mental calculation. "So you're doing what, about 150 miles a day?"

"Something like that," I reply. "My longest day has been about 200 miles and my shortest around 125." Even though I track all my distances in kilometers, I do the conversions into miles for purposes of conversation.

I look over their gear. Mike's towing a loaded BOB trailer and Phyllis's bike has big panniers on both the front and back. My style of touring and pace must seem completely alien to them. "Do you camp?" asks Mike.

"Most nights I do," I reply. "Commando camping most nights but I've stayed in motels a couple of nights to avoid thunderstorms. I stayed in a motel last night in Wolf Point." I go on to explain that my stove and cooking kit didn't make the final cut for weight. "I didn't figure it was worth the weight and hassle to cook. I pretty much thrive on the food I find in gas stations and stores along the way. While I'm explaining this I'm illustrating the point by scarfing down my healthy second breakfast of the day, a pint of milk and a Snickers Ice Cream bar.

We talk more about our trips and what a shame it was that Going To The Sun Road was closed when we went through. "Did you stop and Goat Lick and see the goats?" I ask.

"Well, I did," Mike laughs, "but Phyllis skipped it. She didn't want to go down the hill." I do recall that getting to the Goat Lick overlook involved turning down a big hill that had to be climbed again to get back onto Hwy 2.

"I thought it was just some tourist trap," Phyllis explains. "I didn't know there'd really be goats there." Mike tells me that he had in fact seen a couple of goats at the lick when he was there.

Mike's looking over my bike now and he's noticed I'm on a fixed gear. "Umm, have you ever hear of these things called gears?" he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, I've heard of them," I tell Mike. "I just find that one is all I need." Mike nods and then asks the question that tells me he really does understand something about what I'm doing: "So is that a single speed or a fixed gear?"

"Fixed," I reply. "It's better for climbing." Mike and I then go onto explain to an incredulous Phyllis that I'm riding a single speed bike that doesn't coast.

"But, but how did you get over the passes?" Phyllis asks.

"I pedalled over them," I reply. "How did you get over the passes?"

Phyllis shakes her head. "But doesn't having only one gear slow you dow..." her question trails off. "Oh never mind!" she laughs.

I've finished my breakfast now. "I've gotta get rolling" I explain but I hand them one of my little pieces of paper with my web address and email on it. "Drop me a note when you get done. And check my web page to see if I make it to Minnesota."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you'll make it!" Mike predicts with confidence. As I roll out he says "I'd say 'see you later' but I don't think that's going to happen! Have a good trip."

"You too," I reply and I head out, onto the road and against the wind.

The heat and wind are draining. Even though I'm traveling light by most tourist standards, I spend much of the time thinking about what I could improve in my touring kit. With the sleeping bag strapped on top, my rear rack bag isn't very accessible. A better set-up would be slighter larger panniers. If I had those, the sleeping bag would ride lower and I could stuff the awkwardly shaped bug bivy into one pannier. Also I'm making a mental catalog of items to change or not take along next time.

I stop at the Cenex station in Culbertson for another snack. I find a patch of shade and snap a picture of Fast Eddy. I finish my snack and roll on.

Fast Eddy 78.99 KB

Throughout Montana Hwy 2 has been a variable road. In some places it's been a smooth road with a good shoulder while in other areas it's been quite choppy with little to no shoulder. Here in eastern Montana it's rough and I'm thinking that it's a good thing Mark isn't here. He's not fond of rough highways (although he loves obsure logging roads), truck traffic and narrow shoulders. And that pretty much describes Hwy 2 here. I roll on past cricket pumps and low scrub country.

Bainville Montana is basically just place where two roads cross but there's a little store here called the "Welcome Stop" and it is indeed a welcome stop for me and I buy some more liquid before continuing on.

Hwy 2 has mileage markers on it and I've been counting them all the way across Montana. At 1:20 PM I finally go past the 667th mile of Montana and cross into North Dakota. This marks another time change, so it is now 2:20 PM Central Time.

North Dakota must have more money to spend on the highway than Montana does because the road conditions improve the instant I cross the border. At 4:00 PM, I follow the business route of Hwy 2 through downtown Williston and I stop at the large Economart grocery store to buy supplies. I'm eating in the shade outside the store when a fellow comes up to me and strikes up a conversation. He restores and rides vintage bikes and we have a nice chat about 1950s vintage Schwinns. He tells me about a Schwinn Panther he restored and I ask if it had a two-speed kickback hub like I used to have on my old Schwinn Jaguar.

"Yep," he nods. He seems very pleased that I know about such things. "In fact," he continues, "I wound up using the hub off an old Jaguar when I restored the Panther."

He goes on to tell me that he and his friends have a vintage bike parade every summer in Williston. Looking at my bike he says wistfully that he's always thought about riding cross country but that he supposes he'd need a derailler bike for that. "No you don't," I say pointing out Eddy's fixed drivetrain. "You can do whatever you put your mind to if you just keep at it."

The highway turns north as I leave Williston and it's a big road like a freeway with wide smooth shoulders. I'm now cutting across the wind instead of heading straight into it but it's still very warm. Eventually the road turns east again and again I resume the battle against the wind. I'm not going very fast and the incessant wind drags against me. I stretch out on the bike and pedal on.

I pull into a little town called Ray at 7:55 PM. I buy some supplies at a small store and then follow a sign that points to the camping area. There's a park here next to the McLeod Reservoir with a lovely camping area. I'm the only person camping here so I pick out a perfect spot to string my lean-to between two trees. It doesn't look like it will rain tonight but I know that rain can blow in quickly and as it did in western Montana, the lean-to provides a nice wind-break. One good thing about the constant breeze is that the wind seems to have blown all the mosquitoes away.

Campsite in Ray ND 131.61 KB

Forward to June 23, 2002 -- Ray ND to Towner ND

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