Yearly Archives: 2015

an homage to america

We left off in our adventures last Sunday in Monroe, Wisconsin, so I’ve got a lot to catch you all up on. Since we decided we were in need of an actual break day, we spent the whole day loitering around town and occupying space at the local McDonald’s. As night began to fall outside, we decided to stop guzzling coffees and head out to make dinner. Once again we were out-loitered by the guy with six composition notebooks and the same affinity for free wifi and drink refills as us. I wanted to go back inside and say bye, but was torn, as I didn’t want to interrupt his ongoing raid. My brother was once a World of Warcraft fanatic as well, so I know to stay back in the midst of heavy gameplay.

out-loitered again 🙁

As we rolled out, back towards the fairgrounds that had been such a pleasant place to camp the night before (so pleasant in fact, that we declined a short five mile ride out of town to an offered house in favor of staying in town once again) I saw and alerted Stink of a fruit and cheese store off to our right. I had a hunch their dumpsters would be bountiful, and as we pulled up in the sprinkling rain and darkening sky, our minimal efforts were gloriously rewarded.

There, laying perched atop a bed of soft crush ice, lay 15 or more containers of various kinds of yogurts and dips. Just to the other side of the rubbish heap, mine eyes beheld a plethora of fruits; strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, peaches, oranges, grapes, and cherries. We stood around picking through, munching, and filling up some spare grocery bags with the cream of the crop.

here’s a dark and blurry picture of the spoils so that you may see the harsh reality of it.

With full bags dangling from our handlebars, we rode off into the night back to our sweet cozy fairground pavilion. Stink washed up the fruits and checked expiration dates on her yogurts while I cooked up some dinner before bed. Soon enough, we were ready to zonk, and resume our cycling expedition in the morning.

I woke early the next day; there was a fella scooting by on a golf cart. Making eye-contact with him as I sat up out of my sleeping bag, he called out words I was not yet prepared to hear. “You know you need to pay for two nights of camping now, right?” In my stupor I called back a simple no, and attempted to explain that the police had sent us here. I don’t think he understood, and once again requested payment from Stink and I, $24 total to be exact. Without the cognitive power of full wakefulness in me, we paid the man and he zipped off in his stupid little golf cart. I mean his regular little golfcart; I’m having trouble not holding a slight grudge against him for catching me unaware in the morning. All that day I kept coming up with things I wished I had said to him, for example, “Why didn’t you tell us after the first night that we needed to pay!?” and “Who died and put you in charge?” (Not my best argument)

OH well, what’s done is done and I’ve lost all faith in wonderful, cozy, tempting fairgrounds.

That morning our wonderful breakfast of oatmeal and dumpster fruit was slightly soured by the previous events. Also, perhaps because some of the fruits weren’t quite ripe.

We cruised out of town, without hitting up the McDonald’s and soon were on our way through the countryside to get our daily miles in.

We stopped in Beloit to visit the post office, do an interview with the paper, and of course to loiter about in the McDonald’s. There was a discount food pantry across the road I was eying, so at one point I walked over, only to find liqueur and cigarettes lining the shelves. I walked through the aisles to make sure that there really wasn’t any food, and upon finding none but crispy chips and snacks of the gas station variety, prepared to leave. As I stepped towards the door, the man behind the counter called out a “hey!”  and as I turned around and met his stern gaze, I figured out what he was on about. Due to my somewhat… shall we say, road-ragged appearance, and my little browsing stint through the mart, I was being silently accused of shoplifting. Feeling like I needed to maintain my innocence, I offered that I was merely looking around for something to eat, but after getting further stares from the man and the customer on the other side of the counter, I chose to just make my exit.

I indignantly fumed my way over to the Family Dollar next to McDonald’s and bought a package of chocolate chip cookies and ate the whole thing…

Our booth in McDonald’s afforded us a view of the road, and of the Entering Illinois sign just down the street. Eventually we set out to capture a photo and a new state.

do the dough-nut!

That evening we arrived at our destination of Harvard, IL, and whatever we were expecting of the place, it wasn’t that. Harvard was a mini-Mexico, with marts and signs all in Spanish. We stopped at a little bodega and picked up some corn and spaghetti while browsing the aisles of Mexican sweets and treats.

Outside, we walked down an alleyway and found the dumpster of the Swiss Maid Bakery… We were met with trashbags full of doughnuts, bagels, and buns. At one point we heard noises from the open back door right by the bin, and  decided to back down for the time being. We filled a sack and munched as we perused the rest of the street, quite delighted by our sweet find.

some other sweet dumpsters we ran across this week.. hehe

We planned to return to the dumpster once the employees were done for the day, to dig about and find bagels for the next few lunches, but each time we came back by, there would be noises from just inside the door, or someone would be bringing out trash, barring our entry.

We sat on a bench on the main street and cooked a disgusting looking meal of spaghetti with dumpster tomatoes and fresh corn, all the while plotting to get our hands on more goodies. Upon completion, we returned to the mother-load, and were able to pluck a few more bagels from its depths, then scooted on our way to the Walmart in town to camp at that night.

While setting up the tent, it began to lightly sprinkle, but looking across the parking lot, we could see huge rain drops quickly coming our way. Complete with an onslaught of mosquitos, we rushed to get our sleeping bags in the tent and our gear secure before the advancing shower hit us. Stink dived in as the first soaking drops fell, but I was caught outside, prepping Beef’s house for the night, when the rain cloud reached us. Within  seconds I was soaked, but within a minute the brunt of the cloud had passed, and moments later, the air was free of rain once more.

Soggy, mosquito bitten, and ready for bed, I walked to the Wal-mart to change into dry clothes, looking dreadfully pitiful as I squish-splashed in my sodden shoes through the entry door, changed, then headed “home” to hit the hay.

The next day we aimed to reach Waukegan, IL for our first glimpse of the great lakes. We stopped in the town of Woodstock to do an interview. At first, Stink wasn’t super pleased, as the meeting place lay about half a mile off course for us, and we would have both up-hill and wind to face heading back to our route. But all thoughts of this vanished as Stephanie, the reporter, gave us a friendly smile and surprised us with a goodie bag from the newspaper office as she stepped out of the car.

Beef practiced his camouflage skills as we waited for the reporter to meet us.

We had a nice time, just sitting in the grass chatting with her and letting Beef run around, but soon enough it was time to leave, as we had plenty more miles to do that day. We peeked in the bag as we packed to go and were delighted with hand wipes, cheese & cracker snacks, a copy of the newspaper, cookies, and, most treasured, a loaf of cinnamon bread from the Swiss Maid Bakery we had raided the dumpster of just the night before. If we thought their refuse goods were delicious, the fresh stuff was impossibly better.

Munching a bit, then heading out, we were in cornfields for a few miles, then it seems almost immediately, our road became bustling with traffic and we were thrust into densely populated areas before we knew what hit us; Chicago was coming.

houses for days. also, Stink says I look like a green bean.

Lake Michigan! And a ginger!

taking full advantage of this wonderful bike path.

Even as far out as we were, the sprawl of the city had come to meet us. We rode through traffic all day, and on roads with little or no shoulder, but eventually coming to the lake, found a bike path that bore us well. We stopped in a park in Lake Forest to take a good peek at the sea-sized body of water, and a lady approached and asked us what sort of expedition we were on.  As we explained our trip, her companions gathered round and after divulging that we just camp out wherever we can,  one couple, Tom & Karen, invited us to stay in their guest room for the night.

Needing no more encouragement than that, we accepted, and even rode BACK (Noo! We hate going back!) a few miles to their magazine-like home, were we met with good smells, conversation, full kitchen privileges, a claw foot bathtub, and two of the comfiest beds I’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. Well, I mean I only slept on one, but I am sure Stink’s was equally luxurious.

In the morning, Tom made pancakes, and I whipped up some oatmeal with nuts and blueberries that Karen offered, and soon enough we hugged goodbye and went on our merry way. We would be traveling through the heart of Chicago that day and didn’t quite know what to expect. Stink toured through a few years back with her fa, but in a less savory area than we would be heading.

country mouse in the big city

Cyclescoot has officially made it to Chicago!

Grant Park fountain, unless I’m totally remembering the name wrong…

Once again, we were surrounded by cars, trucks, buses, houses, businesses, and people all day as we rode along; it was a bit overstimulating after enjoying the solemn beauty of rural America for so long. We took a bike path along the lake shore for a good many miles, and even saw a real giant riding by. (We both thought at first that he was on one of those double-decker bikes..) Once in downtown Chicago, we had a bit of downtime before going to our hosts for the night (we scheduled a Warm Showers stay in advance; not hopeful that we’d be able to sneaky camp in such an environment).

While looking around for a grocery mart, I found that we were only a short distance away from Chinatown, so we set out to explore. Strongly smelling of various seafoods and full of curious fodder unknown to us, we were entertained by browsing the many marts along the street. I got some delicious mochi and peanut cakes, and Stink stopped at a couple bakeries for bao (a sweet bun often filled with BBQ pork). I cooked and ate a packet of real ramen in an open square as Stink munched the delicious looking buns. I was sure that even the bread wouldn’t be vegan, but eventually decided to see what google thought on the matter. Soon enough, I found that the bun would be edible by me, if only we could find a bakery that made meatless varieties. With that goal in mind, we hit up the many bakeries of Chinatown and found not one, but two different kinds of vegetarian bao! I purchased and devoured a red bean paste bao from one shop, and a taro root one from another. They were both gloriously delicious, and Stink and I agree that Chinatown browsing is a do-over for the next city we end up in.

mm. bao. the one on the right is steamed

Why hello Chinatown. I miss you.

Cyclescoot hung out with some fish for a bit.

This is a durian. According to Stink, it smells like rotting flesh inside. But she wants to try them anyways? Yum? We did not end up purchasing one.

By this time, it was late enough to go to our house for the night, so we scooted along and met Laura and her six month old baby, Bayard (named after civil rights activist Bayard Rustin). Laura is a high school art teacher, and a real cool lady, who let us help out and make ourselves at home while she took care of the babe and got dinner prepped. Her husband Corey come home a bit later and we feasted on spaghetti and talked adventure. (Laura and Corey have bike toured, kayaked through the everglades, traveled world round, and even train hopped!)

The next day, we hung about for awhile and cooked up some steel-cut oats from the cupboard, then finally said goodbye to our hosts and once more hit the road. This day was a bit stressful to me, once again because we were constantly in urban areas and dealing with traffic and pot-hole laden roads. Winding our way through the streets, which often enough weren’t marked at all, we took a … less a than optimally efficient route. At some unmarked point, we crossed the Illinois – Indiana border, much to our dismay.

we took this highly unflattering (of me) picture when entering the sand dunes as a sneaky sort of way to make up for the lack of Indiana sign.

That evening we arrived in Michigan City, IN and after deliberation, decided to call it quits for the day, as we were both zonkered. We stopped at a casino resort and quickly spotted a place in the back parking lot that we could stash the bikes and sneaky camp for the night. “Home” securely positioned in our minds, we set out for the casino doors to win our fortune!

Just kidding.
Our budget does not allow for frivolous spending on such things, however fun some of the games looked. At one point, we sat down next to a fella playing video poker (one of my favorites) and almost immediately he won $1,600 with four aces and a queen. I like to imagine we imparted him with some of our good luck. We roamed around, got free coffee, and took the elevator up to the 23rd floor to take in the nighttime view. Back in the main casino there was an eatery with wifi and outlets for charging. We sat around and relaxed, chatting about what it will be like when we ride back into our hometown some distant chilly December day.

The food joint served burgers and fries among other things, and our mouths were watering for dinner. But before we headed out, Stink’s eagle eye spotted a couple that walked off, abandoning their leftovers and not bothering to bus their trays. After waiting some time to assure that they really weren’t coming back, and with Stink’s encouragement, I walked over to their table and picked up their trays, still laden with french fries and burger dressings (they left their whole pickles, lettuce, tomato, and onion untouched). At first, I felt a small strange tinge of something, akin to embarrassment perhaps? But at Stink’s reminder that this would all just end up in a landfill, I was able to shake the feeling and become giddy with delight at such a find. We munched away, quite pleased with ourselves, before heading back out to the bikes and cowboy camping quite comfortably that night.

Stink snapped this picture in Michigan City. Turns out, it’s not nuclear!

We got more free coffee, and even hot water for oatmeal, from the casino in the morning, making me wish that we could spend the night at casinos every night. They’re always a safe bet, and classy to boot!

We biked along that day, with the sprawl of Chicago finally cutting down, and quickly crossed the  Indiana/Michigan border, capturing our 14th state picture in the process. I don’t think anything much interesting happened that day while we rode (yes, I am still guilty of not journaling! help!), but we ending up outside a Walmart in Elkhart, IN for the night. It’s nice to camp outside Walmarts because you’re guaranteed bathroom access all night long. Also, the browsing proves to be mindlessly entertaining.

Yes? Yes.

We hung about a McDonald’s a few blocks away, waiting for nightfall for better sneaky camping. Before we went inside, a fella pulled up in his car and started chatting with us. He was a pro-balloon twister, but also worked in radiology at the local hospital. He liked being able to twist balloons for young and old patients alike, and earning a smile from them in sometimes very stressful situations. He even stood on his head once to get a bad-tempered elderly lady to laugh. He said she clapped and squealed like a little girl, and her family all gave him hugs afterwards, noting that her attitude was completely changed.

Stephen, the dude, had also done some bike touring, when first setting out into the world from his parents home, and though he didn’t even know which direction to take out from his driveway (and was biking on a $50 bike that he manually had to reach down and switch between the two gears) he made it all the way to his destination, Colorado, and found a job. He was reals cool. We’re so lucky that we get to meet wonderful folks all the time.

After night fell, we scooted back to Walmart, and watched some premature fireworks going off in the distant sky with a little boy and his father who were hiking around town trying to get a better view of them. Soon enough we were heading to the back of the store to sleep, as secretly was we could, behind a cargo container.

In the morning, we packed up under the gaze of three or more employees on their smoke breaks, and headed on over to McDonald’s for coffee and loitering.

Coffee, America, and the Open Road.

This was the Fourth of July, so we rode along, soaking in the America-ness of it all, sweating through the countryside, and even going garage saleing. We ended up in Fremont, Indiana that evening. After arriving, we lounged about in front of the grocery mart and I ate pocket pies and Stink drank soda… for America. We talked with folks, and even had one lady regale us with the whole story of the escaped convicts in New York. (We’re totally out of the loop when it comes to national news, being on the road all the time like we are).

After treating ourselves… in honor of America… we scooted down to the local park and convinced ourselves to do some routine bike maintenance (we switched our back tires with our fronts, as the back wears faster, oiled chains, and I patched up my spare tube) while the scent of a thousand BBQs wafted through the air…. We ate a can of chili beans with rice. 🙁

But we did meet a nice lady named Katy who was spending some time with her kid at the park and she ended up giving us some money  and offered to drive 15 miles home and bring us fresh veggies from her garden. (Why? Why does this happen to us? Yesterday we pondered for awhile on why people want to give us stuff; it’s so unexpected, but nice! We are definitely not complaining!)

We scooted to a church parking lot to camp that night, and soon fell asleep after struggling to keep our eyes open to watch the fireworks going off on the other side of town.

In the morning, we went to the gas station for coffee and hot water for convenient oatmeal making. We chatted with some of the local folk, and one older fella felt compelled to give us the entire history of all the murders that had occurred in Fremont… Thank you for the educational conversation? I hope we don’t get murdered on our way out?

hint hint for the riddle in the title…

While riding that day, we entered Ohio, our 15th state, and snapped a picture for our growing collection. Our goal for the day was to get to a town called Oregon, just for the fun of being able to say we were in Oregon again. We scooted along through the heat, gazing longingly at these swiming-pond type things that everyone in Ohio seems to have. They’re fully outfitted with docks and diving boards, sometimes rope swings and other accoutrements of fine summer fun.

We stopped in one small town along the way to use the mart bathroom and get water and fresh ice for Beefie. When we were about ready to leave, we started chatting with some folks. One guy came up real close to me and told me that he had a brother with red hair, and that he had freckles too. And as he leaned closer to get a good look at me, he added that he couldn’t remember if he had blue eyes or not. I had to laugh. We meet a lot of kooky folks too.

Another couple we were talking with there gave us $10 for dinner. I couldn’t catch their names, even after I had the lady repeat them, but whoever you are, thank you! We went to a great big grocery store in Toledo and bought delicious healthy foods! Any maybe a bit of candy…

As we got nearer the Toledo area, we began to see other cyclists out on the road, just out for the exercise, and so got to wave and smile to lots of folks. We cruised along at a fine clip, and it was nice to see the spandy-pants carbon fiber cyclist types taking a long time to catch up with us. No hard feelings towards them, but it’s nice to know we can hold our own on our 100 plus pounds of steel, gear, and junk.

lovely… just lovely.

Riding through this area has been really lovely though, and I’m feeling that I really like Ohio. We spent the night outside of a Walmart in Oregon, OH and chatted a bit with a couple ladies who were walking laps around the super-center. Beef ran around being his adorable self, and soon we were packing up, heading to a sneaky spot, setting up the tent while swatting away mosquitoes, and climbing peacefully into bed.

This morning we got up, had a brief breakfast out in front of the store, and scooted on. The terrain is nice and level, affording me the opportunity to read one of the four books I’m now carting around the country and soon enough we arrived here in…. Actually, I admit, I have no idea what town I’m in.

And on that note, I’m signing out. I’ve gotta whiz like a racehorse and it’s high time for lunch. Love to you all; strangers, friends, and kin alike.

-Lizzbutts

Iowa Welcomes You

I ‘ve had a heck of a time forgetting things places. I left my wallet in Virginia City, I left my favorite and irreplaceable hat in a field outside of Pierre, I left my phone in Aberdeen, I left my favorite sunglasses somewhere in New Prague, my oatmeal bowl in the sink at the Rochester People’s Co-op, and I left the new chain I bought at the counter at Honest Bikes. Fortunately I was able to walk back and reclaim the chain I purchased while Lizzy worked on last week’s blog update at the Rochester Public Library.

Traveling on a bicycle is strange–that’s not to say that I don’t like it. It is also strange to spend 24 hours a day with your friend when I am used to spending at least a quarter of my day in relative solitude (thankfully Lizzy is bearing with me in grace). And it is also strange to be in a city after spending the better part of two months in either wilderness, or towns no larger than 800 people. So while in Rochester I decided to take a walk. For someone like me who is a homebody and an outskirter, it is exhausting to be a constant spectacle so it was kind of nice to be anonymous for a while. I found a fabulous little food co-op that reminded me so much of home I had to run back to the library and get Liz. Literally, when I went through the front doors I was assaulted by the smell of curry, B.O., pine oil, and whole grains. In other words, it smelled like we were back in Oregon!

In our haste and excitement Lizzy’s rear wheel slipped. I will skip the technical and boring explanation of the problem because it’s annoying to listen to, and even more annoying for me to remember–but long story short, the rear quick release snapped into a million pieces right in the middle of an intersection. Everyone was OK, even little Beefy.

At that point the bike shop was closed and we were completely out of commission with no place to stay. And I was hungry. We were going to lock the bikes up and get something to eat and contemplate our next course of action when we were approached by a very clean and professional looking man. He went out of his way to try to call a friend and find housing for us that night. It didn’t work out, but in my book his efforts have earned him trail angel status.

About that time, we remembered that the bike mechanic who had helped us out earlier that day had given us a business card with his personal phone number on it. We called him and explained the situation, he just so happened to have a replacement quick release and agreed to meet us at the co-op within a couple of hours. And so, what could have been a frustrating problem was quickly averted. We walked down to the co-op and abused their community appliances to create a bundle of hearty and delicious vegan hamburgers to eat while we waited for out mechanic in shining armor.

His name, as fate would have it, is Michael Jackson. A four-star mechanic, gunsmith and fellow cyclotourist; he was quite a character. Mr Jackson allowed us to set up camp behind the shop, and gave me a hatchet for both protection and the chopping if combustibles. He also took us for a night ride around the city, bought me two cokes (!), and entertained us with stories about life in the Midwest and his friends/fellow craftsmen and boomerang master craftsman/gunsmith/bike mechanic coworker. Around midnight our uncontrollable yawning called the night ramble to a close, and we meandered back to the tent.

The bike shop is right across the street from the Police station, and the place our tent was in was very well lit, and Michael Jackson left his car parked next to our tent and unlocked it so we could use it as a safe refuge if needed. Fortunately we didn’t. While we felt safe, sleep was fleeting.

At about three o’clock we were awakened by a friendly voice asking us about our travels and insisting we accept couch pillows. The voice came from a tenant who lived above the bike shop and who worked as a bar tender and was just getting off work. It was a nice gesture, but neither of us was quite awake, and the mix of the disorienting hum of city traffic, the glare of the streetlight, the confusion of such a bright and cheery voice at 3 am brought upon me a inability to sleep and a short bout of paranoia. After we refused offers to watch Netflix, he assured us that we would be safe and that he wouldn’t let anyone bother us (hmmmmm) and bid us “beautiful women” sweet dreams and safe travels.

My dreams were not sweet because they didn’t exist. I forced myself to stay in the tent until 4:45, and then I went for a walk. The sun was coming up and I found a nice little spot to journal and do my daily devotion, and watch a healthy flock of ducks prepare for the coming morning. I eventually packed up what I could and left Lizzy (who was snoozing deep) to get coffee at the co-op. What an improbable night. This is where I deeply want to make some Michael Jackson puns like: I’m glad the bike shop didn’t make us ‘beat it’, or, that night sure was a ‘thriller’.

Zoom zoom

So, with 4 cups of coffee and 2 hours of sleep in me, we rode out of Rochester toward the hills of the Driftless region. The running theory is that this part of the Midwest was never glaciated, and is thus very hilly. Whatever the case, there are hills here, and ‘Driftless’ sounds cool. We made 60 miles out to Canton. We, or at least I, really wanted to make it to Decorah, IA that night because I am a ridiculously goal oriented person, and I knew that momma had granola waiting for us at the Post Office there, but I was literally falling asleep on my bike–something that is not impossible. I was startled back to reality by the yells of some Amish children, and knew it was time to pull over for the night. We went to bed before the sun went down.

Rochester is known for the Mayo Medical Center. . . And this corn water tower

I’ve been in Iowa before, but never in the northeast. It is fantastic. The route Deek showed us, though longer, was my favorite stretch of road ridden thus far. It started out with a legendary dumpster dive: 2 cantaloupes, 4 bags of lettuce, 2 bunches of bananas each, 1 handful of cherry tomatoes, 2 pears, 1 sack of onions, and best for last: 4 bags of cherries! There was more in the dumpster, but we couldn’t carry it. I was ecstatic about the cherries, we picked the mushy ones out and feasted on nature’s candy as we peddled the gentle slope out of town and into the Iowan jungle.

Lizzy enjoying the fruits of our labor, note the bags of lettuce

And jungle it is out here. There are long patches of sandstone formations, overgrown with lush flora, housing small, trickling waterfalls. Frogs were serenading the coming night in chorus by the thousands. Curious deer watched us timidly in the slowly rising mist. Some leaped away, albeit lazily; some decided we weren’t worth the effort. Bats flurried above us, darting about in search of invisible prey. Crickets harmonized the amphibious melody until the song of night reached out beyond our ears and called the finale: fireflies. As the moon rose, the stars brightened, and the twilight deepened, fireflies rose from blackening silluhettes of the hills until the entire landscape shimmered like the skin of a middle school girl after a visit to Claire’s Accessories at the mall. We rode in this manor, awed by the beauty, moved by the sheer inability to explain exactly what we were feeling or experiencing. Before we knew it, we were in a town and the shimmering form of a baseball dugout called us home.

Some, just some of our free produce

I carried those cantaloupes about 100 miles. Just a side note.

The next morning we awoke ready to cross the Mississippi River and get a goofy picture in front of the Welcome to Wisconsin sign. Such are our goals these days. Life is good. The Wisconsin visitor’s center had free, ice cold, chocolate milk on tap. Needless to say, I abused that privilege. We also abused the free coffee refills at the Prarie du Chein McDonald’s, but in due time were on the road again.

We made it to the land of milk and more milk

Unlimited chocolate milk! Welcome to Wisconsin!

We passed through some neat old towns. I’ve been taking note of township foundation dates, and we have officially crossed into some pre 1865 towns, which I think is pretty neat. One town, the name I can’t remember, as founded in 1863, which is interesting. I like to think about the fact that those people, whoever they were, founded a town in the midst of a terrible Civil War. Grandma took Heather and me out to Washington DC one year and we spent a good deal of time walking old town cemeteries and Civil War cemeteries. We had a game where we would try to find the oldest tombstone, I hope to be engaging in that activity fairly soon.

Our first Civil War Memorial in Plattesville

We found a great grocery store that had wonderful samples everywhere (again, we abused the privilege), and then rode to a McDonald’s so we could Skype home. At about 11 yesterday night, we rode out to the park and created a delicious meal and waited to the cops to show up. This seemed like too nice of a town to let two grimy kids with a rat bed down in a high class pavilion. Sure enough, we drew the attention of the law. Two officers–who were extremely respectful, considerate, and more than understandably concerned about our presence in the city park–kicked us out and directed us to a way, way better camp spot at the town fairgrounds (complete with showers, though we haven’t found them yet).

We slept in, attended church this morning and kind of celebrated an anniversary party, and then for the past however many hours have been lounging around town doing absolutely as little as possible. I maybe even watched the 1976 Robin Hood cartoon at the McDonald’s. And maybe maybe I got more free samples from that grocery store. We have justified our 12 hour presence by the fact that we have been out loitered at this McDonald’s by a World of Warcrafter, who was also here last night and out loitered us then. . .

Much love to you all, and Beef says hi.

–Haley

ride on my friends, ride on.

Okay, let’s see, so, we got super soaked last Tuesday and some nice folks at the bar took us home for the night… wait, that doesn’t sounds right.

Anyways, we woke up in the morning, feeling great, having slept on full size air-mattresses rather than our dinky little camping mats. Our gracious host, Rita, got a hold of a lady she knew at the newspaper and soon enough, we were all gathered around the kitchen table, talkin’ tour like we do.

I’ve been more on the ball as far as arranging interviews as of late, so we’ve been a bit busier spreading the word about Watsi. It also helps that we’re passing though tons of small towns, and news of a two-wheeled excursion though the whole wide United State travels fast. Add a rat in there and you’ve got yourself a story.

So, we chatted, had our photos taken (though we’re still super awkward when it comes to this; I seem to look everywhere but at the camera and close my eyes 80% of the time), thanked our host, and climbed aboard the bikes. In contrast to the day before, the sun was shining, and we did NOT have a brazen head-wind to struggle through.

Soon enough, we found ourselves in Wahpeton, North Dakota, where we knew that just on the other side of the Red River would lie our 9th state, Minnesota! We spent a good deal of time loitering in the McDonald’s, with Stink putting the finishing touches on the last post, and me doing who knows what. Probably eating.

There was table-side service at that fine establishment, and the gal kept coming around asking if I wanted a refill of my coffee… Why, yes… I would love another refill ma’am. I think I guzzled my body weight in liquid caffeine while we took over a booth for hours.

Finally, we actually left the zone of free wifi and coffee refills, and set out to find a North Dakota postcard before heading over the river. Stopping at two different gas stations, we found that they had none in stock (turns out Wahpeton, ND isn’t much of a tourist destination). We rode on a few more blocks, went over a small bridge, and much to our surprise/horror, we had accidentally crossed into Minnesota! A quick U-ie and we were back over the non-descript bridge and into North Dakota again. There hadn’t even been a “Welcome to Minnesota!” sign for us to pose awkwardly in front of! There nerve of them!

We back tracked through Wahpeton to one last convenience store to check for postcards (Stink is under strict requirements to send a postcard from each state and no man, woman, or unmarked state border is going to stop her from completing this task). Lo and behold, the cashier lady at the gas station was able to find, underneath a basket of tacky key chains, a small stack of North Dakota post cards. A quick purchase later, and we were out the door, when we spotted an Econo Foods grocery store just across the road. Now, that’s two words I like to see together, so I of course zipped over there to check out the dumpster situation, and to browse the aisles of delicious foods.

The dumpster was compactor style, so defeated, I walked into the actual entrance of the store, where what sight might have greeted mine eyes? JJ’s Bakery boxed pies; all flavors present, and at the low, low price of 3 for $2! So, I grabbed some pies and began my browsing. We picked up a bag of cold, plain bagels for 99 cents and Stink found a bag of chocolate chips for 50 cents. We asked the gal at the cash register if the other bridge in town that crossed into Minnesota had a welcome sign or if we were out of luck. She couldn’t remember if it had the sign or not, but was able to tell us there’d be a gigantic catfish statue… Needless to say, we we’re intrigued and headed that way.

seriously JJ’s, you need to give me free pies.

One quickly scarfed pie later, and we were heading across town towards the other bridge. Right before we got there, we spotted the giant catfish sculpture. It was… a giant catfish sculpture. I think Stink took a picture in the falling dusk.

obligatory new state photo, now with mosquitoes!

Across the bridge and much to our pleasure was a Minnesota sign. We wheeled around the barrier and Stink stood in the grass below while I went & set up the camera. As expected, a cloud of mosquitoes started swarming around us, determined to make this process as miserable as possible. We swatted away while the picture snapped, then quickly hopped back on the bikes to high-tail it outta there.

We stopped a mile or so into Breckenridge, Minnesota and set up camp in a church parking lot. I let Beef run rampant in the area while we cooked dinner and called home. At one point, he started heading towards our little camp stove so I ran his way to try to snatch him up before he singed his little whiskers, and, probably because of the crazy giant stomping right towards him, he headed straight to the wind shield sitting around the flame and, of course, singed his little whiskers.

you can’t see it. but just trust me. he looks like a goob.

My poor little boy. He got much treats and cuddles for his actions, and will probably attempt to do it again in the future. After dinner, we hopped into the tent (the presence of approximately 10 million mosquitoes in Minnesota requires that we set the tent up each night), and zonked out.

We woke in the morning and rushed to pack up and find a gas station to go pee at. Once there and bladders safely deflated, I got ahold of the Wahpeton/Breckenridge newspaper, and they sent a fella from the sports department our way. We sat at a little both inside the convenience store and stuffed our faces with breakfast while he conducted the interview. By now, we know what sorts of things people want to know, and can rattle off the stats in our sleep. Two gals, one rat, 48 states, 10,000 miles, and seven jars of peanut butter. You get the idea.

We ended up talking with a few different people while we were outside the store packing up as well. Something about a couple of kids cramming water bottles and jackets and who knows what else into the already bulging bags on their bikes strikes up people’s curiosity. We talked with some folks who make custom engraved rings and necklaces and later got an email from them asking if we’d like something to commemorate the trip. We thought about it, then decided, sure, why not? Stink was pretty set on getting “home to home” on a necklace, when I suggested “there and back again” to better appeal to her Tolkien roots. It was a winner. After spending much cycling time trying to think of something stupid involving farts or something for my quote, I gave up and decided to get “just.ride” stamped on mine. Anyways, you can check out there site here: www.namerings.com

After finally leaving the gas station, we rode on to Fergus Falls, MN. Now, I have to admit here that I have no idea what we did in Fergus Falls…. I am a bad person and did not journal at all last week, because I am dumb/lazy. Anything could have happened. We could have accidentally rode out into the middle of a parade. We could have gone to get haircuts only for them to end up comically horrible. We could have adopted a stray puppy from the roadside and named him Porkchop. Anything is possible if you put your mind to it and neglect your journaling duties for a week.

pbb&jbpr… (peanut butter and jelly bagels with sliced bananas, peanuts, and raisins… )

Actually, looking at a map now, I don’t even think we went to Fergus Falls… That’s relieving, because I seriously didn’t remember anything about it. What we actually did was cruise out to Elbow Lake and eat lunch in the convenience store parking lot. While preparing our bbpb&jb’s (banana bagels with peanut butter and jelly and sliced bananas on top), we found that we were nearly out of the most crucial of ingredients; peanut butter! I despondently sat on the curb and used the official PBTS (peanut butter transfer spoon, for transferring the last of the peanut butter into the next jar. Works best when you actually have a next jar already on hand to transfer in to… The PBTS is a small, plastic, white soup-spoon that I filched from some deli condiment station states ago. Stink tried to convert us to a Dairy Queen spoon, but it wasn’t tough enough to handle the job and promptly snapped in half upon first attempt) to scrape the remnants onto my waiting bagel. A man who had stopped to chat must have thought me pitiful as I scrapped and scrapped and scrapped. He ended up insisting I take some monies so that we could go get drinks in Hoffman, our destination for the evening. Thanks man!

After lunch, we headed to the newspaper office just down the road and did a quick interview with the editor of the Grant County Herald, Kris. He even took us out back and showed us his ol’ bike that he scoots around town on assignments with. What a life! After that, we went to the grocery store and got more peanut butter. We couldn’t stand to be without it any longer. We also stopped in a thrift store because we like to torture ourselves by finding great deals on cool things and not having any room on our bikes to bring them along. Buuuut, we did end up getting a couple books because we couldn’t say no, and Stink had already read the free one we picked up in Portland (Blink by Malcolm Gladwell) and wasn’t into the book I’d brought along from home (The Winds Twelve Quarters by Ursula Le Guin). She ended up purchasing a book about Seabiscuit by Laura Hillenbrand and I got John Muir’s memoir ‘The Story of My Boyhood and Youth’. With the right terrain and traffic, you can read while cycling and be entertained for miles upon miles (Note: this activity is not approved for beginning cyclists!)

After strapping on the additional weight, we left for Hoffman and the miles flew by indeed. When we got there, we scoped out a convenience store/restaurant for coffee in the morning, and then a park to camp at that night. Then we headed to the bar for those drinks! Except that Stink doesn’t drink, so she ended up deciding to go chill at the park for some peace and quiet and some friggen’ alone time for once. So, I took it upon myself to do the drinking for two, and got a couple beers and some fries with the bar money provided by Elbow Lake dude. I hung out by myself, doodled a bit, and then, as I was getting ready to go “home” for the night, ended up chatting with a couple folks who were sitting around the table outside. This ended up being the owner, Frog (whose real name is Jeremiah, and had named the bar, Bullfrogs, and you can probably see where he got his nickname from), Barb, who has worked with him at the bar for years, and Mark, just a cool gay dude who had moved to the area from Minneapolis to take care of his mother. I entertained with stories from the road and let Beef meet some other patrons who came outside for smoke breaks. (Beef proved to be great at getting drunk straight dudes to stop coming onto me). Frog kept the drinks coming, and brought out a container of strawberries for me to snack on. We ended up chatting late into the night and, eventually, with many a yawn from me, and a promise to call Barb in the morning before we left to shower and eat breakfast (if it wasn’t too early), we all headed out.

lizzbutts draws dumb stuffs at the bar

I rode the three blocks to our home for the night, a park gazebo, and sleepily climbed into bed. In the morning, I looked out the front door of the tent and saw a big paper bag with a note on it from Mark. He had snuck by at some point and left us a bag of goodies; grapes, bananas, cookies, and so on, that were greatly appreciated and soon eaten. It was too early to go to Barb’s, so we just went to the convenience store and cooked some oatmeal and added leftover strawberries and fruits from Mark. Once again, we proved to be a curiosity and ended up talking with quite a few people. The owner of the station brought out some cookies and energy bars and even offered to have us eat at the restaurant free of charge (but since we were already halfway through making our oats, regretfully declined). I am not quite sure exactly why people want to feed us all the time, but I’m certainly not complaining!

dear world, thanks for always wanting to feed us.

Soon, we headed out, aiming to get to Paynesville that day. Once again, I admit that I did not jounal during the week, so I am leaving this day up to your imaginations. Go nuts.

Possibly better than imagination: Stink found a Sierpinski Tetrahedron (cool mathy triangle fractal thing)

We got to Paynesville, and parked our bums on the curb outside the Casey’s convenience store. We could hear really loud off key singing coming from somewhere nearby, and curiosity drove us to find the source. We scooted around town till we found a Relay for Life event with some sort of karaoke set up as entertainment for the walkers. Good for them. We quickly moved on.

We found a grocery mart, where I browsed every single aisle, till Stink finally dragged me outta there, hungry and half asleep as I was. We had seen a minor league baseball game going on on our way to the mart, so we were determined to go sit and watch as we cooked and ate our dinner. Just as we arrived to the park, we saw a player catch a fly ball, an out was called, and the game was over. People started streaming out past us, and once again, we had to answer the age old question; “What is in the mailbox??” We chatted with folks about our trip and about Watsi, and soon one of the ladies (who ran the concession stand) came back with half a pepperoni pizza and two hamburgers piled up for the two of us. I smiled graciously and said my thanks, then had to watch Stink eat it right in front of me as we chatted with the other gals in the concession stand. When we found a moment to break free, we ran off to a dark area where I could sneakily cook up my vegan dinner and finally abate my hunger.

That night, a storm was scheduled to roll in, so the folks at the park told us about the storm shelter located right there. We rolled the bikes in and made ourselves at home for the night, thankful to not have to worry about mosquitoes for once. Around two in the morning, we both woke up, and peeked outside at the storm. It wasn’t raining yet, but you could see the sky lighting up with flashes of lightening and hear the roaring booms of thunder. We went and sat on the swings nearby and watched in silent awe for some time. Soon it began to sprinkle, then outright rain and we ran for cover under the grandstand. I was all sticky from the cumulative layers of sunscreen and bug spray, and grime from life on the road and the rain felt so nice & clean! I decided I was going to take a little rain shower, so went back to the shelter, stripped down to my birthday suit and stood buck naked outside at three in the morning in a strange town. Life is weird, but it sure is nice to get clean sometimes. Stink ended up taking a sponge bath in the shelter bathroom and soon we were back to bed.

home sweet storm shelter! Beef playground! indoor-outdoor-floor!

At seven in the morning, someone came to check in on the shelter, so we woke up and packed up all our gear. We rode out to the McDonald’s and of course loitered for hours, drinking coffee and working on Within Biking Distance stuff. Out the door we eventually went, annnnnd yet again, I’m drawing a big blank on the activities of that day. It’s okay though, because I take forever to tell you about the things I do remember anyways.

…making friends.

Seriously, like, we went garage saling at some point? Man, my memory is whack.

Maybe this was from that day… who knows.

Welcome to Hutchinson. Temporary home of two stinky gals and one smelly rat.

…So we rolled into Hutchinson. It was wonderful. There were trees, and shade (what I do remember of the ride that day was that it was sunny and HOT), and nice wide streets to bike through. We got to the downtown main street area, locked the bikes up, and walked to Dairy Queen where Stink got a gigantic blizzard (her eyes were bigger than her belly though, and she has since decided that the large is way, way too large). We strolled around town while she ate and soon came across a Mexican restaurant. We’ve kind of realized that this is the perfect place for us if we want to eat out for dinner. They usually have vegetarian/vegan options, taste great, and most importantly, offer free chips and salsa. There was half a basket of chips and salsa left out on one of the outdoor tables, so I nabbed some chips and stuffed them in my pocket to munch on as we continued our walk and debated going out to eat that night. Waste not, want not. Also, they were good chips.

…yup… Mexican restaurants are perfect for us in every way.

I… I don’t even know what to say.

While walking, we found a cool old movie theater that reminded us of the 3rd Street Pizza theater at home, and combined with nostalgia, the low price of $3.50 per ticket definitely put that on the radar for the evening activities. We eventually decided to just do it all, and walked our bikes over to the Mexican restraunt for dinner, which was faaaaantastic, and then to the movies where we saw Tomorrowland, which was… pretty cool. It had some really creative ideas and inventions, and cool props, costumes, and effects. After the movie, we rolled to a park, set up the house, and zonked.

That morning was Sunday, so Stink wanted to go to church, but not before we ran to Wal-Mart to get something for breakfast. At Walmart, I will admit that I bought an entire discount full-size blueberry pie… I had been keeping an eye out for one ever since finding out they were vegan back at the Whittecar’s house in Nebraska. We quickly breakfasted and scooted to the church, where we found out the service didn’t actually start for another hour. So we breakfasted some more… and I ate like half that pie. By myself. Stink wouldn’t take more than one bite. I was okay with all of this.

When service was about to start we went inside and talked with folks, then took our seats. To my credit, I didn’t immediately fall asleep, but soon enough the comfy chairs, warm environment, and even voices had me lolling off. At one point, Stink woke me up and told me it was time to leave. Apparently the pastor had been getting a bit too political in his sermon and she was worried where he might be going. We rolled out and hit up the WalMart again for more necessary items like vitamins and such. We also stopped at a different grocery store (for fun and variety!) where we found discounted 40 cent cans of chili beans and took the risk on a few of them. Once more, I know that we did ride all day, it’s just that I don’t remember much of what happened while we rode. Use that lovely imagination of yours!

wherever this place was, we stopped in a thrift store and I got a pair of sandals for $3.75. worth it, except that my tan-line still makes it look like I’m wearing socks…

We stayed that night in New Prague, in a nice city park. We cooked up some of that chili with rice, and a bag of frozen veggies and it was bomb. As in good. Bomb is really hip lingo for yummy. We set up the tent behind the library and zonked (it was late). At one point in the night, we heard a cop’s walkie-talkie not many feet off from us, but they must have realised we were no threat, as no blinding lights we’re shown into the tent to wake us up. We rose at six the next morning, to the sound of thunder. Again. We saw lightening as we packed up, and got the first few drops of rain as we searched out a mart to hole up in for a bit. We found a McDonald’s (also, again) and got coffees and prepared to wait out the storm. We could see it was a big one, looking at radar maps on our phone, and sure enough, there was soon a torrential downpour going on outside. I had to run out there to batten down the hatches on Beef’s mailbox as the intense wind was getting everything wet, under cover or not. We wrote, and drew, and drank coffees, and stealthily made oatmeals and PB&J’s till 10, when it had finally blown over.

lizzbutts draws dumb stuffs more

lizzbutts keeps drawing dumb stuffs!!

While packing up the bikes, we talked with this guy, Mark St. de Hubert, who had had 48 strokes since one of his horses had trampled him “to death”. I think he might have been serious about that part too. He was really interesting, and we chatted for awhile about all sorts of stuff. When I asked for his name, he took a moment to remember his last name, and couldn’t spell it for me (I thought he had said Saindy Cuber or something like that), but all the same he pulled a credit card out of his wallet so I could read it. Cool dude; we’re lucky to meet interesting folks like him.

That day we rode. Obviously. One of these mystery days we were along a train track, and I kept getting the conductors to honk for us with the universal sign language for “HONK HONK”. I redubbed trains as “moving murals” because checking out all the graffiti as they pass also proves quite entertaining. We stopped in Faribault (pronounced Fairbull) for lunch, and to do an interview with the paper there. We met at the library, and went through the ropes, surprising the guy at the end of interview when we remembered to tell him we had brought a pet rat along. When we were finished, we noticed that the community center next door was a YMCA, and went inside to inquire about the cost of a shower. They looked it up and said it was $2, and as we headed back to the bikes to deliberate, they offered to just let us shower for free. Was it generosity for us, or for the rest of the world so that no one would have to put up with our stench any longer? Either way, we scrambled at the opportunity.

West Concord Accomplished!

One quick shower later and we were ready to put on sunscreen and get sweaty and dirty again. Off we went to West Concord, which was the tiny town that was our destination for the evening. We pulled into town and were met by the smells of a delicious looking little local burger joint. I called up the paper and went off to order fries. Can’t be helped. The editor came and we sat around and had a pleasant chat while I stuffed fries and three full containers of condiments (BBQ, ketchup, and mustard) down my gullet.

We had her direct us to the town park, but were also warned that there had been vandalism issues lately, and also for Beef to watch out for stray cats. I guess the stray cats were a sore issue for the town council. While feasting on a really amazingly delicious dinner of chili beans, rice, refried beans, discount buns, and a variety of condiment packets (it was like some sort of heavenly sloppy joe- beanie- burger), the town’s two cops stopped to have a chat with us. They didn’t often have people brazenly setting up tents in the pavilion, and had come to tell us that camping wasn’t allowed there, and that the park closed at ten. But they were friendly fellas, and as Beef was running around the bench and on my lap, they asked if he was a ferret (for not the last time, no, he is not a ferret), and gave him some nice scritches. They directed us to an empty lot by the baseball park that we could camp at for the night, and said their goodbyes.

sloppy beanie joes or something. also, my secret stash of condiments …

We finished up dinner, packed the tent back up, and relocated. In fifteen more minutes, we were cozy in bed and falling asleep. In the morning, we headed out to do just 25 or so miles to Rochester, MN. We’ve been aiming for here for ages, as we needed to hit up a bike shop in town for a new freewheel for my bike and new chains for the both of us. When we got into town (er, city, I should say. This place has a population of 106,000! Biggest place we’ve been to since we left Portland) we stopped at a gas station, and a lady from the local TV gave me a call back and wanted to do an interview. She drove out, set up the camera and mics, and interviewed us about the trip so far. This was a lot of fun as she was real easy to talk to, even though we were on camera. She even wanted to hold Beefy afterwards, him being the first rat she’d ever met. She filmed as we rode off into the city, where we eventually found our way to the bike shop, Honest Bikes. One of the dudes working there, Mike, hooked us up good, and even gave up a couple of popsicles to munch on while he worked on my bike. We used money given to us by family/friends/strangers to pay for the new equipment, so thanks everyone! The bikes are now up for doing another 8,000 miles!

thanks Honest Bikes!

After that, it was just two short blocks to the public library, where I parked my butt and began writing this gigantic rambling tale many hours ago. (Big shout out to the Rochester Public Library for renewing my computer time fifty zillion times while I worked on this!)

Hope you’ve all enjoyed. Much love from all of us,

Super sincerely,

Lizzy

From one Dakota to another

(sorry, this is going to be a long one!)

Well, we’re in North Dakota. It is raining. It is chilly. But it’s another state! After our interview in Pierre (which is pronounced Pier in these parts), we rode out to the local bike shop to get some advice concerning Lizzy’s freewheel—a long explanation is needed here so I’ll just say its about time to replace it and we have to wait to Minneapolis to do so. And finally, after the bike shop. . . we rode to the Post Office! It was a silly experience as the newspaper wanted a photographer to be there when we got our eagerly anticipated maps/goodie boxes from mom and a surprise box from Lizzy’s aunt Mary and co. in Oklahoma. I can only guess what the photographer was thinking when we opened up boxes of granola and jelly, but we were in a state of complete joy. Momma made us the BEST granola I have ever had, and Lizzy’s fam sent us cookies, crackers, and even hand sanitizer. It was like they’d been on tour themselves. We rode to a nearby park to further inspect our goodies, and unpack everything that we have in order to sort out what winter gear we wanted to send back home.

What’s this– a yard sald?

hmm, not bad….

…in fact, it’s great!! so much love for my family for surprising us with a care package 🙂

It was stunning to step back and see the massive pile of junk that we’d been carrying with us—and over the mountains. We happened to be next door to the Pierre American Legion, and since we were quite a spectacle, ended up drawing a small crowd of onlookers. One by one they’d look at us, look at the massive heap we were sorting through, and shake their heads. “How far are you going?” “Is that a rat?” “What’s the point of this?” We answered their questions and were reciprocated with Snickers bars and Cajon peanut/Chex mix. Shortly after we finally managed to pack everything away, Bruce, our host for the night, and his friend Jim stopped by with the pickup to drive us home. There was a feast waiting for us, along with dogs to play with, chickens to chase, horse to treat, and the cutest set of ginger piglets I have ever seen to pet. Bruce happens to work for the South Dakota Highway Department at some capacity, so we had a lengthy chat about the route ahead, and to my joy, former president Eisenhower came up (as he was responsible for America’s fantastic highway system). The next morning we rode into town to finally mail off our winter gear. As we walked into the Post Office we were somewhat startled to see ourselves on the front page of the newspaper kiosk. I guess news travels fast in South Dakota. While we were looking at ourselves in the paper, not one but two people came up to us, recognizing us as the crazy biker gals from Orygone. We corrected some facts, and then continued about our business. One woman was kind enough to buy us a copy of the newspaper and give us money for “steak dinner and pie” once we get to Wahpeton. Many thanks Pierre! We then rode to Wal-Mart to restock on bananas and bagels when we happened to run into Bruce. It was fairly late in the evening by that time. When he saw us he shook his head laughing and offered us another night at the Hunt home, but we assured him we would actually leave town within the hour.

We did however make a quick stop at the Good Will, which in our defense was on the way out of town. I remember once talking to a friend who did a lot of international travel. She said that whenever she was feeling homesick she would head to a Pizza Hut because that is where all the other homesick American expats go to eat dinner in Europe. To us—Goodwill is our Pizza Hut. I might add, the Pierre Goodwill has very reasonable prices. Unfortunately, Lizzy found a large bag of cookies marked “broken discount” and “sugar free”. Oddly, the second listed ingredient was sugar. Never one to pass up a bargain, she bought them. And then ate them. I will put it this way: don’t buy Goodwill brand cookies. We each ate a handful trying to decide whether they were good or not, and then another handful to decide if we were hungry or not. Flatulence ensued. Though we were aware of the adverse side effects, we just aren’t at a place in life where throwing away purchased food is morally justifiable. Needless to say, they are gone now—but they are ever instilled in our memories. That evening we rode out to Onida, SD, and for the first time experienced true flatness. And I mean flat. We are in a part of the world where it is possible to see the next town from 15 miles away, and then have the wonderful experience of riding toward that town in a headwind, water tower in view, for a full hour. I took to listening to NPR and reading my book while riding. No cars, no turns. It’s pretty great.

Flat as a pancake

A free-range piggy farm in South Dakota

a common sight around here. rows upon rows of grain silos

cows is always staring at us.

life on the road; where anywhere can feel like home.

We finally started seeing trees again near Gettysburg, “Where the Battle Didn’t Happen” and where I purchased a world class nutty cinnamon roll. Town after town we rode, until we landed in Aberdeen. We were shocked by the number of people in town and even had the gumption to ask the gal running the deli at the local grocery store if there were a vegan or vegetarian restaurant. She said “not in Aberdeen, but we do have a gluten free isle.” Not quite the same, but helpful nonetheless. We decided that we should celebrate the existence of so many humans in one place by eating Mexican food. We happened upon a great little burrito restaurant near the Wal-Mart and left with full bellies and happy faces. Free chips and salsa! I wanted to skype my family that night as it was my big sister’s graduation and I happened to know her boyfriend was going to propose to her, but everything in Aberdeen except the Wal-Mart closes after 9:00 PM (7:00 home time). So, to the Wal-Mart we went in order to skype home. Congrats Heather, I’m so proud. Also, good choice Cody! While we were at the store, Lizzy ran into a couple that were real USPS mail people! That was fun. They noticed the mailbox on the bikes and were intrigued. We slept in a really great, but also really sticky muddy camp spot behind Wal-Mart that night, and in the morning I decided to splurge and get myself a good cup of coffee at the St. Arbucks. It’s no Coffee Cottage, but will do in a pinch. I plugged my phone in to charge while we were there, and then rode off to Groton, a town about 20 miles away, before I realized it. The phone number we got for the St. Arbucks was not working, so I didn’t know if my phone was even there or not any more. We deliberated. Would it be better to ride back 20 miles into the wind, and then back to Groton 20 miles for a phone that might not even be there any more? Or should I try to find a ride to town and back? Sorry mom–I decided to hitch. I took Lizzy’s phone and left her with the bikes and hit the road. A really wonderful farmer lady picked me up and drove me back to Aberdeen. Though she wasn’t planning on driving back to Groton that day, she said that after her errands were done she’d see if I’d been picked up and if I was on the road, she’d drive me back to Groton. My phone was in the St. Arbucks, exactly where I had left it, completely untouched! That was a miracle in itself. That morning I had left it with my coffee cup on a table in the middle of the store, and when I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I just walked right past it. I was excited to have my phone back, and also excited at the prospect of the farmer lady driving me back to Groton, but I didn’t know when her errands would be done, and since I had my phone and Lizzy’s phone and no way to contact Lizzy, I decided to start walking. As I walked, I halfheartedly thumbed for a ride and prayed that God would send just the right people to pick me up. About 10 minutes later a gigantic Expedition type vehicle pulled over. I ran up to it, and a woman hopped out “OK, What’s your story and are you carrying any weapons?” I explained my situation and she opened up the back saying she could drop me off at Groton if I didn’t mind riding along as she dropped off kids. She also said that she hadn’t wanted to pick me up as she was on a tight schedule, but she felt God had asked her to stop. Lo and behold—God answered my prayer via a homeschool bus! Now, it may seem strange, but few things are more comforting to me than being surrounded by a gigantic homeschool family and doing menial errands–so I eagerly hopped in the back seat. It felt amazing to be in a car. We dropped of kiddos, and then drove back to Groton where Louise offered to treat Lizz and me to Dairy Queen. I’ve never said no to a Blizzard! But even more than that, I just really wanted to hang around these people for a little while longer. So, I found Lizzy and we rode across the street to the DQ for fries and ice cream. I really was blessed by the kindness and generosity of that wonderful family. The kiddos also received a lesson in rat ownership thanks to Lizzy.

A lesson in rat ownership

Beef is too handsome for his own good.

By the time we left it was 3:00 and we had nearly 50 miles to go with a headwind. Many hours, much gravel, four sore knees, and two achy rears later we rolled into Britton, SD. Quick research showed a park in town, but upon our arrival a monsoon of mosquitoes swirled up from who knows where and attacked us—so we went to the elementary school to make a meager dinner of beans, rice, onions and potatoes. I must interject here: we do eat well. It is fun to write about all of the treats and goodies we get along the way, but that really just compliments our normal fare of bananas, beans and bagels. To those who have written us concerned: we really do eat a lot of veggies! At this point, we were accosted by a local BMX club. That is—a small gang of local children biked up to where we were trying to prepare our meal and bombarded us with questions. . . about everything. To our concern, they were quite eager to know exactly how much money we had on us, where we were planning to sleep that night, and if we’d ever been robbed. . . They proved to be quite harmless. I’m certain now that they wanted us to take them out to Kreemees, a local ice cream and hamburger shop. They really like Kreemees. After a long conversation that ranged everything from how often we shower, could they come with us, and what we eat—two of the kiddos called their mom. “Mom, we met some hobos and they need to shower. Come to the park!” I felt bad for this poor mother because that is a phone call no mom wants to hear! Their mom Karista, who is a really cool lady, did come and she did let us come home to shower. We tried to patch the kiddo’s bicycle inner tubes (since they all rolled up with near flat tires), but one tube proved unfixable. So, around 11:00 yesterday night we left their home and popped up the tent at the school, exhausted and laughing. What an improbable day. We really, really love South Dakota, and really enjoyed hangin around with inquisitive kids–so fun! This morning, we rode out to the Britton Cennex gas station for coffee and bathrooms and met a whole new host of wonderful people. A lady at the station gave me two (yes two!) of the BEST brownie-whatever-they-are bars and I ate them with gusto. We also got an interview with the local paper and advice on the weather. After hearing our situation, one old farmer smiled at us and said, “An idiot is born every minute, maybe two.” He meant it well, and we all had a good chuckle. We then took off to North Dakota quoting all the Chris Farley sketches I could think of. And so, here we are, at a great little library in Forman, ND, sipping complementary coffee and waiting out the rain. Only 40 states to go!

Beef got to run around the schoolyard in the morning when we woke up in Britton. He immediately went to play in the bundles of rebar lying around, and used his super camouflage skills.

this is the life, yo

Not so fast!

I finished writing that bit and the library closed. It takes a really long time to write and put pictures on these things so we decided that we would finish when we got to Wahpeton. So it was that Lizzy, Beef, and I hit the road at 5 pm with a strong headwind and a driving rain. I was not pleased. Well, truthfully I had a really bad attitude about it. An agonizing 21 miles later we rolled into Milnor completely soaked and with no place to stay. A nice lady in a car told us that we could find a gazebo down the street. We parked the bikes there and looked for a business that might be open so that we could change our clothes. The only open indoors was a bar and grill called Ode’s (I might have spelled it right). It’s is a jolly good place I’ll tell you! We ordered dinner and got in some conversation with the locals. The bar owner Michelle said our dinners were on the house. We met a great couple, Rita and Charlie, and their friends. They entertained us with stories about horses, leafy spurge, and fencing, and together put up 39 dollars for Watsi. We also met a woman named Rachael who gave 20 dollars to Watsi. We were moved by the overwhelming generosity and kindness we experienced in Milnor, and will never forget it. I really wish I had taken pictures of everyone. That night, Rita and Charlie took us home and let us dry our clothes (thank God!), drink some Tang, and sleep in real beds!!!! There are many great places in America, and Milnor, North Dakota is one of them. Thank you everyone.

Rachael’s donation was put toward Phyllis, a mother from Kenya who needs $740 for a mastectomy to stop the spread of breast cancer.

Phyllis is a mother who needs treatment for breast cancer

Rita, Charlie, Jessie, Jerry and Rich’s donation we put toward Neath, a man from Cambodia who needs treatment for a broken leg.

Neath is a father from Cambodia who needs $405 for surgery to repair a femoral neck fracture.