So North Dakota

Mobridge, South Dakota to Stateline Resort, North Dakota. Saturday, July 24, 2021

Again, the residual of the storms meant that I didn’t get going until after eight. That’s too late when there’s this much heat and sun. The hilliest part was in the beginning when it was relatively cool, but by the time I hit the only town, Pollock, the sun was blazing and I was in desperate need of shade and a cool drink.

Pollock initially seemed to have nothing, but on close inspection there was a bar that served food, Grumpy’s, and a visitor center. Grumpy made me one mean steak and cheese and a big chocolate cookie, along with plenty of ice water and root beer.

While dining there I meant Vina LaFave, who grew up near here and runs the visitor center next door. That center has displays about how this town was largely flooded by the formation of Lake Oahe, some of the buildings were moved to higher ground and make up the new Pollock, such as it is.

Vina warned me to watch out for rattlesnakes. They will try to avoid you, but be careful when walking through brush. She mentioned that her dog Rex used to kill rattlesnakes all the time, but when he got older his reflexes were not so good and he got badly bit. He wandered off, and the family had assumed that he had died. Four days later, looking bedraggled and very hungry, he showed up. He had gone to the riverbank and lain in the mud, which drew out the venom. Amazing that dogs have the instinct to do that.

By the time lunch was finished the wind had fully shifted into a strong hot headwind, and it was a replay of that awful day in Iowa where I only went 20 miles. This time I had 34 miles to go, and large hills lay ahead.

There was a little dazzle to this bleak situation, however, crossing for the first time into a new state by bicycle. North Dakota is one of only four states where I have never been, and it was a thrill to enter it this way, just as it was thrilling to first enter Spain by foot on the Camino.

If you zoom in on the sign you’ll see the state motto “Be Legendary”. Later when I would ask natives about it, they would just roll their eyes.

What’s more remarkable in that photo is the plume of black smoke rising just above the highway. Cars were whizzing by and seemingly paying it no mind. But I looked at it with trepidation, knowing that the fire risk was high in this drought and heat, and that a grass or brushfire whipped up by the wind can travel quite quickly. And the wind was blowing right at me. I stood there for about 10 minutes, eyeing it warily, before I decided that calling 911 would be foolish, and that it did not appear to be too serious. I proceeded on, as Meriwether and William would say.

After five more miles of battling the headwind, I despaired of reaching my campsite before dark. I happened to see a sign for the Stateline Resort, which had not appeared on any of my Google campsite searches, and I called the number. Yes, they had tent camping, yes, they had hot showers, the owner would be right over. There were still 21 miles to go to my intended campground, but I thought it best to stop here and deal with those miles before sunrise tomorrow. It would be a tailwind by then.

The owner was on his way to a wedding, so I was touched that he came over to help me. I asked him about that smoke, he thought some farmer was cleaning out his diesel tanks or something, did not seem too concerned. This would be my first night camping in the heat, there were a few trees but I had to pick my tent site carefully to make sure it would stay in the shade as the sun moved through the sky. There were a bunch of RVs, but I was the only tent there. The resort was on the lake, but the shoreline didn’t look too appetizing, and there was no one swimming.

Well, it wasn’t too bad. I prepared the only food item I had required cooking, a hot apple cobbler I have been carrying with me since the beginning of the trip. I had to ration my food to last me for breakfast and 75 more miles. My tent has an option to be as breezy as possible, it didn’t cool down to under 90 until the sun went down, but by then you could lay in the tent and not be too uncomfortable.

So North Dakota. I’ve only been in the state for five miles, don’t have a feel for it yet. So far, more rolling grassland, I do spot some dry buttes in the distance. The couple of people I’ve met have been very friendly, and the traffic seems courteous passing. I’ve always been fascinated by the state, which seemed to me to be about the bleakest and emptiest place in the country. The birthplace of Lawrence Welk, was all I knew. One of my residents had gone to medical school there, felt that having to go there was a kind of penance. Legendary? We’ll see.

Distance 50 miles, 4,385 total. Time 8 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,922 feet

©️ 2021 Scott Luria