June 19, 2016
Excuses, Excuses
Thief River Falls, Minnesota
Yes, I like thunderstorms and this morning nature served up a doozy. I got to enjoy it in my awesome tent that some might think is too heavy for bike touring. Sorry, but it's the best 7 pounds I've ever carried. It was made by Mountain Hardware and it's not called "Room With a View" for nothing. I got to see every bolt of lightning through its plastic windows, and I got to hear every boom and roll of thunder, rock with every wind gust, and enjoy a full hour of rain pummeling my rainfly, safe in the knowledge that I would be comfortable and dry.
Following the storm, I was provided with a very humid day for my biking. I normally thrive on heat and humidity, but this day wore me down. Perhaps that's why I got a little testy with an old man in the parking lot of a large chain store. (Okay, it was WalMart.) I was pedaling toward the store itself when I saw a car backing out of a parking space right into my lane. I stopped pedaling and slowly coasted in order to give the driver time to see me. But instead of stopping to let me pass, the very old man rolled down his window and yelled, "Don'tcha have brakes on that thing?"
I fired back, "Don't YOU have brakes on THAT thing?" That's about as testy as I get.
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It is probably becoming clear to anybody reading this journal that I have decided not to go to North Dakota. My only excuse is that this roundabout-gadabout tour is developing a sense of being almost over. I say that knowing I still have 7-10 days of riding left and at least a couple of things I am looking forward to seeing. But none of those things really included North Dakota from the very beginning--except for the bragging factor of riding through part of another state.
At this point, North Dakota seemed anti-climactic and, with all apologies to North Dakotans, there is no greater anti-climax than northeast North Dakota. I've been there . . . I know.
Also, there was this nagging dream I had a few nights ago which seems to indicate I'm missing my wife. I dreamed I was back in my hometown and my bike tour was over. My wife, The Feeshko, and I were walking our dog, Diggity, which is something we do every day. We were holding hands, which is something we never do. I had a warm feeling of being home. That is, until I felt a sixth finger on The Feeshko's left hand. I was shocked and the only reason I didn't let go in horror was that I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I wondered how, after 30 years of marriage, I could not have known about this before. Or did I just forget she had six fingers because I had been bike touring for so long? Then I woke up.
So, if I can get home a couple of days earlier by avoiding a small corner of North Dakota in order to verify that my wife only has five fingers on her left hand, I consider that to be time well-saved.
Today's ride: 52 miles (84 km)
Total: 889 miles (1,431 km)
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