Turn the bike around

Aug. 29, Mobridge-Selby, 35 miles, S wind, 85/60; Aug. 30, Selby-Hoven, 35 miles, SSE wind, 88/65—Every sentence in this entry will be related to wind. It wasn't just the theme of the day, it dominated every corner of my brain. I woke to a powerful south wind at Lake Hiddenwood Recreation Area that made breakfast and packing difficult. I said goodbye to Keith, a friendly Iowa motorcyclist heading to Arizona by the scenic route, whose BMW bike I wanted badly. The going was even worse than I imagined: 7 mph on the flat, 5 uphill, 9 downhill. Tumbleweeds passed me on the way to North Dakota. I made progress once, along a quarter-mile of shelterbelt trees.

Nine miles into the day, a bar in slow and quiet Java tended by Doris cheered me up until I walked outside. The bar TV had said winds wouldn't diminish until night, and I decided to tough it out to Hoven—Java had nothing more than the bar in the way of services. Maybe I should've had something stiff to drink, but I needed all my faculties to avoid getting blown off the road by wind gusts.

Over the last 20 miles I took regular breaks to sit in the grass, and went deep into my stash of energy snacks. For the day I averaged 7.3 mph. I don't believe in hell, but if it exists the wind blows hard.

Hoven, home of the Cathedral of the Prairie (more here and here), welcomed me in force at the grocery store. Peggy answered my logistical questions, and outside another woman invited me to stay at her house (my backup to the city park). The weather is turning in a day or so when a front arrives.