USA Ride to Remember

The spoiling of the four C’s did not stop in Hastings. We continued on to Lansing to stay with Pat Harrington, a good friend of Lyndy and Jerry’s and a leader/contributor to organized cycling throughout the state of Michigan. He was so enthusiastic and happy to have us and we were equally grateful. It was a pretty straightforward and easy ride from Hastings, although we had to ride in some rain for the first time this whole trip!

Once at Pat’s house, everything was taken care of and accounted for. We did not need to worry about finding food, a place to sleep or even a beer to drink. He had it all and he had it to share:) After some homemade salsa and a cold beer we headed downtown for the folk festival in East Lansing near Michigan State campus. Pat toured us around the capitol and around some funky Lansing ‘hoods. He gave us the 411 on the goings-on and let us in on some local knowledge like the nicknames for the three big smoke stacks in town: Linkin’, Blinkin’ & Nod.

After the funky festival we drove back to Pat’s place with his girlfriend, Robin. Once “home” Pat put his mother’s famous lasagna into the oven. Apparently he had three pans of said lasagna in his freezer for such occasions. The whole family is in on it—while Pat’s mom no longer cooks it, his nieces have continued the tradition of this wonderful family recipe. We were lucky enough to be chosen as lasagna-worthy. It was such delicious lasagna—stuffed with homemade meatballs and sauce! And as a side, Pat prepared a most authentic Caesar salad with a spicy kick. It was so delicious none of us could refuse seconds and we all went to bed with bellies protruding. I don’t think I have ever been so stuffed in my life. It was great.

While the food was spectacular, it was sitting and chatting with Pat and Robin that will continue to feed me. They are incredibly upbeat and interesting people. Pat being the cyclist of course, filled us in on his adventures crossing the country on his bike back in 1980. He had us cracking up with a story about how he and his pal would take turns sneaking a big rock from Yellowstone into each other’s paniers…he still has the rock…

Robin and her sidekick-pup, Cleo were very entertaining as well. She filled us in on how it is to own thirty hens and chickens! Of course she had some gruesome stories; but also ‘tales’ of tender white meat:) She even shared a dozen delicious eggs with us. The yolks were so incredibly orange! Pat scrambled them in with some duck eggs and made a delicious casserole of eggs, veggies and little pieces of baguette in the morning. He also gave us all sorts of lunch meat, cheeses and more baguette for the road so we wouldn’t have to worry about lunch…like I said, the spoiling didn’t stop in Hastings. Thank you so much Pat & Robin!!!

It didn’t even stop in Lansing! We continued on to Ann Arbor from Lansing to stay with my good friend Molly’s family. I met Molly on an olive grove in southern Spain where we worked side by side harvesting olives for a whole month. We became very close and she now lives in Portland, just a couple miles down the road from me. She is from Ann Arbor and invited me to stay with her lovely parents for a night on our way through. Her father, Abdul is grew up in Morocco so we went from eating a family’s secret lasagna recipe to very authentic Moroccan cuisine…how did we ever deserve such treatment?

Molly’s mom, Julie was home to greet us at 5 in the afternoon after almost 80 miles of cycling. She showed us where we would have a place to sleep, gave us towels to shower and then continued to hustle in the kitchen to feed us kafta and other Moroccan treats. It was so wonderful to chat with her and get to know my friend Molly that much more, by seeing where she came from and who she learned from…Julie is a tremendous and gracious cook and host, like Molly:)

After gorging on the kafta that Casey grilled up for Julie we were treated again to some of Abdul’s homemade Moroccan desserts which I cannot spell. It is a dense kind of dough with a light orange flavor, covered in a sticky honey and sesame seeds, curled into a kind of pretzel shape—oh how amazing they are! They are unlike any other dessert and they were accompanied by authentic Moroccan tea. Abdul prepared a very sweet green loose-leaf tea shrouded with his garden’s mint. He brought it out in a gorgeous silver kettle and poured us each a little glass—lifting the kettle high in the air as they do in Morocco. Before drinking the tea, he toasted us in Arabic—welcoming us into his home in a very traditional way. It was all so lovely! Thank you so, so much Abdul and Julie!

Ann Arbor was a really cool town to ride through also. There is a great sense of vibrant energy and the rapid exchanging of ideas that only comes from a college town. And U of M is quite the energetic college with the enormous stadium and all the prestige. There are funky coffee shops, small restaurants and used bookstores everywhere. The campus is a fun mixture of 1920′s stone structures and modern architecture. For example, in the law quad, the library has been built in with an all-glass wall that basically cuts in at a 45 degree angle underground right into this old stone building. The glass wall faces south to catch some good sun rays, probably cutting down on energy costs. Pretty neat.

In Ann Arbor I also was able to meet up with my pal Sarah. She is a childhood friend of Molly’s and came over to Spain for a couple weeks and traveled with us. She came and met us at Arbor Brewing Co. and it was fabulous to catch up with her in her hometown. She asked us some awesome questions too! I think my favorite question which I haven’t gotten from anyone else yet was: “Would you recommend doing this trip/should I do this if I can?” My answer: “ABSOLUTELY!” As we get closer and closer to New York, as the miles pile up behind us and dwindle in front of us, I become more and more proud and satisfied in a way I have never felt before in my life. This trip has taught me about people and places in the United States in a way you could only learn from experiencing them this way. This long, drawn out process of moving ourselves with just our legs, through the wide expanse of space that is America—it’s empowering, it’s unforgettable, it’s wild! I love it and would recommend it very highly to anyone who could handle/pull off a trip like this!

Next blog will speak to our biking adventures through the city of Detroit and our visit with my wildly fun aunt Denise and uncle Jack. It has been challenging to find internet lately which is why the blogs have been fewer…I will try to catch up this week biking through New York State!!!!

Wow, where to begin writing about our stay in Hastings, Michigan?! We have been in the hands of Casey’s folks, Jerry and Lyndy and boy have we been spoiled!

J & L met us right off the ferry in Ludington, MI and began the spoiling with pizza, Bell’s beer and a night in a hotel w/ jacuzzi and pool! Lyndy also came prepared with her own bicycle and joined us the following day, riding the whole length of the Hart–Montague rail-to-trail. It was a blast to have a fifth rider with us. Lyndy kept right up with us…in fact she passed me a few times, very politely saying, “on your left!”

It took us two riding days to get from Ludington to Hastings, Casey’s hometown. The first day was a breeze–a quick 60 miles along the shore of Lake Michigan. We camped at a beautiful spot with the classic northwest Michigan sand dunes lining the shore. After the long and hard riding through Wisconsin all of us were feeling pretty exhausted and were trying our hardest to savor our last sights of Lake Michigan, before heading east yet again.

The following day, Tuesday was a long day into Hastings. It was 89.6 miles of broken up rail-to-trails and navigating Grand Rapids: land-o-cars! G.R. was a pretty big headache since the shoulders were narrow and there are sidewalks to no where so it seems no one walks or bikes anywhere. We were surrounded by automobiles and had to zigzag our way southeast through some pretty nasty traffic. But once we got through that, it was a nice ride through pretty farmland to Casey’s parents.

Since arriving here in Hastings I can feel myself getting softer and softer. With the exception of some light interviews with local media and ESPN, we haven’t been made to lift a finger for anything. Usually we are left to our own devices to find food, water, place to sleep but in Hastings Lyndy and Jerry have given us the classic mid-western hospitality. For example, morning 1 in Hastings: we wake up to the incredible smell of hot coffee and sticky buns! We make the little trek from our soft bed in the cool basement up to the cozy kitchen where Lyndy has been working on three different egg casseroles, caramel sticky buns and a colorful fruit salad! As we pass the hot plates around the table, licking our chops, Jerry is topping our coffee–keeping the cups steaming! I am so comfortable, it feels wrong…but oh so right!

After breakfast we made our way down to the Bolthouse family Ace Hardware store in town to work on our bicycles. Shortly after Casey’s brother Levi started hustling on Corey’s bike, News8 (Grand Rapids news station) showed up for our interview debut! They filmed Casey and Levi wrenching on our bikes and then interviewed Casey and I about the journey. It was good preparation for my following day of interviewing with an ESPN team doing a series of stories about female athletes. And it was pretty funny to go home to Casey’s parents house and see everyone crowded around the t.v. before dinner to watch our silly mugs on the tube. It was a little 30 second clip and everyone cheered. Good times!

L & J topped off the day with a fiesta of fish tacos. It was a gorgeous day so we all sat outside at a long table filled with delicious food, and great people surrounding all of it. Levi and his fiance, Ashley were there with their adorable one year old daughter, Olivia; Casey’s sister, Carrie was there with her amazing kids, Elle and Lucy; Casey’s Grandma Mac was there in tow with her incredible homemade cookies n’ cream ice cream! And Lyndy finally took her seat at the table after everyone was taken care of–with plates full of food and cups filled with sun tea. It was a wonderful meal, rich in nutrition and love:)

Now Lyndy has really made sure we have been well-fed and she’s also managed to keep things pretty healthy, nutritious. But I have to devote an entire paragraph to her desserts! Every single evening she has baked a different sweet treat for our enjoyment. The first evening we were treated to a rich chocolate cake with frosting to go with Grandma Mac’s cookies n’ cream ice cream. The second night we had a delicious concoction of pudding, cream cheese and whipped cream which Carrie dubbed four layers of sin;) And last night we had the most scrumptious peach cobbler to go with Grandma Mac’s other ice cream flavor, butter pecan! As I write this very minute, Lyndy is working on some other treat–I am peaking over at the kitchen counter where I can see a jar of sweet jam and a zip lock bag of dense homemade whipped cream. It has been a delightful shmorgazboard of sugary Lyndy recipes. I haven’t been silly enough to say no to one of her desserts yet. Yes, we’ve been spoiled a bit.

I have also been spoiled by the sweetness of Casey’s young neices. Elle, Lucy and Olivia are so cute it is overwhelming. Olivia, the youngest but maybe not the lightest, is all thighs:) She has these big brown eyes and scrunches up her nose when she laughs–which is very often as she points to things and says, “this!” Elle, the proper four year old has a full head of curls. She loves to brush out my long hair to get me “beautiful” for my prince, Casey. Lucy is the wild one who giggles constantly and was trying to heal my recently scratched up arm with some kind of spiritual song/dance with her beaded necklace. Needless to say, they are a ton of fun but might be more exhausting than riding your bike across the country. After spending a day with those three, I felt more tired than after a 70 mile ride. Who knows, it could be from eating all that sugar too…

We were also able to spend some quality time with Casey’s old kooky high school buddies, Drew and John. Drew is currently on his way back out to Portland by train but we stopped by his house on our first night in town. We had a great time catching up with him, drinking some bourbon in his backyard, filling him in on some of our exploits. His dad also entertained us with jokes told through Riley, the crankiest lapdog I’ve ever met.

John took us on another tour down the Thornapple River. I shared a canoe with this guy–a dude who reminds me so much of Walter from the Big Lebowski it’s freaky. John would jokingly call me Pete (another one of their h.s. pals) when I would get lazy with the paddle. He kept us laughing with all his loud stories and exploits around Hastings. The Thornapple was as peaceful as ever though–we saw an enormous blue heron flying from tree to tree and there were hundreds of turtles of all sizes out sunning themselves on the branches sticking out of the water. It was great to be outside, on the water moving steadily but exerting very little energy. Maybe we should have canoed across the country…

We are now super relaxed, stuffed, rested, sugar-loaded–basically ready to ride bicycles another 800 miles:) It might be a little challenging to get back into the swing of things–taking care of ourselves, things like that…but we’ll do our best because that’s all we can ever do.

Thank you Lyndy & Jerry for all your amazing hospitality. We will absolutely be back and not just because of the sticky buns and potatoes au gratin.

Lansing tomorrow, then Ann Arbor, then Detroit to see my dad’s sister, my Aunt Denise and Uncle Jack!

In Wisconsin we biked long and hard, everyday. We covered 350 miles in four days! We had the perfect combination of tolerable weather, direct routes and fairly easy terrain. Through the second half of the state we were on one long rail-to-trail, the mountain-bay state trail running from Wausau all the way to Green Bay. It was a beautiful trail of crushed limestone through thick forests, passed scenic lakes and through darling little farm towns with Polish heritage.

Some things I will take away with me from Wisconsin: images of picturesque farms with amazing old red barns with stone foundations, cheese (lots of it), meat and beer…or more accurately, the feeling of having consumed too much of these things for four days. Yes, the folks in Wisconsin seem to either grow the food on their farms and make the cheese–innocent of typical city habits or they consume these things in incredible quantities. Either way, they are very pleasant people–aiming to please with deep fried cheese curds and cute mid-western accents.

From Colby we biked another 90 miles to the little town of Shawano, just outside Green Bay. Shawano is right on the mountain-bay state trail and their old train depot has even been converted into a really sweet bike/coffee shop! We found a nice little spot to camp out right on Lake Shawano, next to some late-night fishermen. They were flabbergasted when we told them where we had biked from and seemed pleased that Shawano was on our map. They welcomed us and got back to fishin’.

We departed Shawano on Saturday with the goal of reaching Manitowoc on Lake Michigan in order to catch the Sunday ferry to our next state–MICHIGAN! We weren’t exactly sure of the mileage and we weren’t exactly sure we wanted to know. We had just done two consecutive 90 mile days and our legs were feeling the distance while our heads were already on the boat. We just had to keep pedaling and eventually the massive lake came into view. We rode down into the little town of Two Rivers, just 6 miles north of Manitowoc. Seeing that lake made me so wildly happy. It felt like another success in this rather long procession of biking/surving endeavors. All four of us quickly tossed off our cycling boots and our stinky socks and ran into the lake. It was crystal clear and the sand was soft on the feet. The water must have been about 75 degrees–perfect for cooling off but not too cold. We dunked our heads to get rid of excess salt and trail grime and waded around the many sand bars. I also felt compelled to shout out into the distance of this lake how far we had biked to get there. The boys just smiled a little bit as I guess we’re all just getting used to each other’s eccentricities. It was just plain fun to be in the lake with the three boys. Good times had by all.

After cooling off ceremoniously, we geared back up for our final 6 miles along the shore. We made it to Manitowoc with plenty of daylight and plenty of time to make new friends. While Casey was cruising around downtown Manitowoc, he spotted a t-shirt designed by his friend and Bike Gallery co-worker out in Portland, Matt. He approached the young man sporting this shirt and asked him when he was in Portland and that it was a good friend of his who designed the shirt he was wearing…and that’s how we met Froggie. Froggie, the unofficial young mayor of Manitowoc decided it was his job to take care of us during our stay in his hometown. Froggie loves bicycling and even completed his own biking journey from Manitowoc all the way to Portland, OR back in 2009–when he went to the B.G. and bought the shirt! Froggie rides a frog-colored fix-gear bike which means he always has to pedal and has to kind of squeeze the front rims with his knees or use his feet to bring the bike to a stop–no brakes or gears. It is decorated with stickers, multi-colored beads on his front spokes, cards aligned with his rear spokes and to top it off, a little green frog nestles down by the bottom bracket in the frame of the bike. He works at the coolest bar I’ve probably ever been to, ever. Revolutions is owned by Dana who turned an old Knights of Columbus building into a rocking bar, complete with the world’s longest mini bowling lanes (random, I know). The basement is also stacked with pool tables, foosbal, and darts. In the upstairs lounge/bar, Dana has his most rare and special vinyl covers displayed on the wall and all you have to do to hear a song on one of these records is ask him! That’s right, he’s a real live juke box but with records playing in his office hooked up to speakers in the bar. We listened to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and the Wall as well as John Lennon’s watchin’ the wheels go round & round…The boys were so thrilled; listening to whatever record they could dream up while eating fried cheese curds and drinking whiskey. Dana and Froggie kept us all very happy.

Casey’s cousin, Aaron also came up to visit us while in Manitowoc. He lives and works down in Milwaukee and took the time to come up on a Saturday night to make sure we ordered the greasiest food and drank enough beer. Aaron let us in on how it is to live in Wisconsin–how one must eat lots of meat and cheese. And how you should check to make sure the cheeseburger/bratburger comes with fries or else you have to order them on the side–or better yet, just order a double order of fried cheese curds:) Aaron was a blast to hang out with and it was a riot for me to see more of the Bolthouse family. Aaron reminded me many times of Casey’s dad, Jerry in his efficiency for ordering food. He was also generous enough to contribute to our fundraising for WBR. So thank you, Aaron for coming up to see us and supporting us!

The following day, before rolling our bikes up onto the ferry we went out to breakfast with Froggie at his favorite spot, Warren’s. It was an incredible grease-filled Wisconsin breakfast. To give you an idea of the meat-eating that was going on: Casey ordered a side of bacon with his eggs & kielbasa! Froggie was pretty impressed. Afterwards Froggie showed us around town a little bit–waving to just about everyone. He brought us to a local cheese shop so we could fill up before crossing the pond. There was also an old Ford car and tractor show going on in town so there were a bunch of farmers riding around the streets of Manitowoc on their souped-up shiny, green john deere’s. We waved at all the tractor drivers as we made our way to the marina. It was a lovely way to finish our tour of Wisconsin.

Now we’re in our ninth state: Michigan! It is really very exciting. We’ll be relaxing at Casey’s parent’s house in Hastings for a few days in addition to some scheduled media interviews. Today, channel 8 of Grand Rapids, tomorrow two folks from ESPN will be here to cover our trip for a series about female athletes, and Friday is an interview on the local radio show! It’s a bit different from our casual mornings cooking a dozen eggs over our camp stoves out in the middle of no where, but it reminds me of where we are–getting closer to the finish. And I am happy that people are interested in what we are doing. It really has been a special trip and I would love to share the positive experience we’ve had with this country with others. I really am relieved that we haven’t had the time to pay too much attention to this whole “debt crisis” debacle–it has been refreshing to have a more intimate perspective of this country; encountering a wide range of citizens ready and willing to help/welcome us in whatever way possible.

Now it’s time to spend some time with Casey’s family, including his adorable nieces, Ellie, Lucy and Olivia. The three of them will surely keep me occupied in between the interviews:)

-C^4

We spent two whole days resting in the twin cities. The first day kept us inside most of the time due to wild thunderstorms. It was kind of a bummer that the weather didn’t allow us to tour around the cites but it forced us to relax after some long riding days in the heat. We even got to watch a movie in the comfort of our little home away from home at Steve’s house in St. Paul. It was very nice–and necessary.

While the first full day in St. Paul was stormy and spent mostly inside, our first night in the city was full of special visitors. My oldest friend in the world, Judy Ellis drove all the way up from LaCrosse, WI to see us! As soon as she got to the house she was all about helping us feel comfortable and happy. She immediately took charge and went out to get us 3 large pizzas and beer! We were all able to stay home and take showers while Judy took care of dinner business. It was amazing! Then she found us a local watering hole where we could drink some awesome micro-brews. It was wonderful to see such an old friend, especially one like Judith. Thanks girl for all the love and support you’ve given us! It was great to spend some time with a real lady:)

We are so thankful to Steve for letting us take over his home while he’s gone, biking west. It is really amazing of him to trust us like that and to be so generous. It is another great example of the graciousness we’ve come across so often riding through this country. There are so many people all over the states who truly care about others and help where they can. It is rejuvenating to the spirit–especially a spirit that’s been riding all day long…
I also want to thank Steve’s friend, Tom who is watching Steve’s house for him while gone. Tom took care of everything from turning on the water and electric while we were there to taking care of our trash after leaving. He made us feel right at home when we arrived and made sure everything was comfortable for our stay. Thank you Tom for taking the time to care for some wandering youngsters like us!

The second day with the twins was much better. The weather lightened up and we were able to do some sight-seeing. Corey’s parents, Marty and Babette were with us, on their way back east after an amazing journey to Alaska in their mini-van. They had some great stories to share with us about all the different places they’d been, the gravel roads they’d traversed and the interesting people they had met. It was a blast to exchange road stories with them since they have such a different perspective from the van than us on bicycles. Marty and Babette just fit right in with the four C’s and toured around town with us all day.

M & B brought us to the Minneapolis flour mill museum in historic downtown. Babette seems especially keen on finding out the story behind people and places and we were so happy to go with them to find out about the origin of this beautiful city on the Mississippi. It turns out that in the middle of the nineteenth century, the St. Anthony Falls were transformed from a sacred place of the Ojibwe Native Americans to a source of power and ultimately money for white settlers. St. Anthony Falls on the Mississippi became the energy source for milling flour. Grain came in by train from Montana, the Dakotas and parts of Canada and flour was then packed into the trains to trade in Chicago and New York. Minneapolis quickly became “Mill City” and so the city grew.

After our history lesson we were treated once more by Corey’s parents, to lunch on the riverfront. We sat out on a fenced in patio with flowers everywhere and city folk dressed in stylish clothing. The menu was stocked with organic and local ingredients. We were back in the big city, or I should say the big cities and we biked there! As I was looking out at all the tall buildings around me and as we walked over the stone arch bridge crossing the Mississippi, I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that we biked to Minneapolis from Oregon. The twin cities are usually where I have a layover when I fly home to New York…and here I was, there with my little bicycle as transportation–pretty neat!

The other neat part of biking into Minneapolis/St. Paul was just how easy and fun it was. There is a rails-to-trails bike path running all the way from Cosmos, 70 miles west of the cities into downtown Minneapolis called the Luce Line Trail. Although it was a bit rocky at times with loose gravel and sand, once we got to the outer suburbs of the cities, it turns to pavement and we really got going! It twisted and turned, went up and over small hills and the all the while we were in the shade of a big forest. At times we’d come out onto some main road and have to cross over to the other side, but that little path just kept us going east. There were special bike signs and everything–we felt incredibly accommodated. We cruised up and over special bike ramps that curved all the way around 360 degrees and then came back down again right to the foot of the Twins baseball stadium! It was spectacular. I had heard the metro council in the cities was pretty progressive and biker friendly but I was still pleasantly surprised at just how accommodating Minneapolis/St. Paul is for cyclists.

We are now in the beautiful dairy-land of Wisconsin. Currently in Colby, WI–home to that cheese. Today we biked 90 miles through farm after farm after farm. We took county road N almost the whole way from Menomonie. We saw only a handful of cars the whole day. Actually we saw plenty of horse buggies today, being in Amish and Mennonite territory. We picked up some amazing produce from one of their farms. The young girls selling the fresh-grown veggies were dressed in the traditional long dresses and little caps. I think they were a bit taken aback with our tight spandex and goofy rear-view mirrors on our helmets. We are on the move and they are clearly at home, where the heart is, where the food is.

Tonight we sleep in yet another church. Pastor Marlea has been kind enough to take us in. We had another kitchen to cook our fresh zucchini, spring onions and string beans; it was delicious. Now we look at our Wisconsin map and get excited for our little ferry ride over to Michigan, over to the Bolthouses!!! We are very excited to see Casey’s family and to relax in that cold basement:)

Time for one more cheese curd before falling asleep…

C^4

After the wild storm of De Smet we thought we were ready for the mid-west weather/conditions…When telling people about this trip, so often I would get worried looks and words of concern regarding the humidity and mosquitoes in Minnesota and Wisconsin. As an upstate-New Yorker, I assured them I was used to it and it would be just fine. I was sorely mistaken. Although we are surviving, riding through this part of the country at this time of year is very uncomfortable. It is like riding through a steam bath–all your muscles slow down, including your brain. Sometimes I feel as though my brain is in the last town we were in and I’m a riding robot with instinct telling me to eat, drink, ride. The mid-western humidity/thunderstorms and mozzies are on a whole other level than the east coast. I really had no idea.

Don’t get me wrong, Minnesota has been wonderful–again, filled with amazing people and interesting little places. In fact, the first town we stopped in, Lake Benton even has an opera house from the 19th century still in operation! It is a beautiful old building that this community of 600 people have worked incredibly hard to maintain and utilize. While we were there, it was the opening night for Camelot: the great story of King Arthur, Guenevere, Merlin and the noble knights of the round table! Tickets were $12.50 and the show was just about sold out. Casey and I got front row seats for this display of local talent. It was magnificent! King Arthur, played by Lake Benton’s very own John Voit was a hit. It was a lovely way to spend an evening out in small town Minnesota. In an old local theatre, with Casey, listening to beautiful voices tell the wonderful tale of a King actually trying to build peace and prosperity among his people. After the show we walked over to our little patch of grass for the night which was next to a dock out on the placid lake. There were thousands of stars shining brilliantly while we quickly set up the tent–or rather while Casey set up the tent and I swatted the swarms of mosquitoes around him.

From Lake Benton we cruised northeast to the cute town of Clara City. We biked 86 miles in less than 7 hours! Rather than our normal headwind we actually had a bit of a tailwind and we took great advantage. Our thoughts were on the promise of a great bike trail running 70 miles all the way into the the Twin Cities. Clara City was another easy town to feel at home. Small, quaint, with a town park providing free camping, bathrooms, water, picnic tables and electricity for charging phones! Clara City also introduced us to the wonderful young man, Jacob Gould. Jacob is a most enthusiastic, intelligent and infinitely curious 12 year old. He sat with us all evening shooting questions at us like no other person we have come across. He is also the first person to want our autographs! He folded a peice of paper into fours and made sure each of us signed in one of the four corners:) He asked us some awesome questions that were so fun to answer–it allowed us to reflect on some of the more fun parts of this trip as a unit, telling stories; each of us interjecting at different points while Jacob’s excited, youthful eyes darted back and forth between all of us. I think my favorite question was whether we told each other jokes while riding. Of course we tell jokes! Especially as of late, while we ride through endless corn fields–we need to keep things entertaining some how. Jacob helped Casey set up our tent and was rather disappointed we didn’t have much else for him to help us with. He wanted to help us in any way he possibly could–in fact, he was telling us about how much he wants to help others. He says he knows he was put on this world to help make it better and he looks forward to finding his outlet for that either as a councelor or teacher or volunteer in Africa! He was so excited that we are raising money for bicycles for young students of Africa. Jacob rides his bike all over town and he is certainly a believer that every kid deserves a bicycle. I think after talking so long with us and giving our bikes a good look-over, he was seeing his own bike in a whole new way–as a serious vehicle for long-distance transportation. He now is considering a bike tour around this country when he feels ready. I think that would be just amazing! Keep dreaming Jacob and keep riding!! Thanks for all the great questions–keep asking them!

From Clara City we rode through a hot cloud to our promised rail-to-trail running from Cosmos, MN all the way to the Twin Cities. We were very excited to escape the hot, black pavement and speeding cars for a while. Unfortunately the beginning of the trail has not been maintained in the way of mowing or weeding all year. The grasses were so high they were getting stuck in our chains and derailers. It was no good. We had to get back on the road for the time being–until our next place of rest, Hutchinson.

Hutchinson is another nice little town tucked into the side of Lake Campbell, one of the ten thousand lakes. After riding through such intense humidity/heat, our skin was covered in sticky sweat that just wouldn’t evaporate. We really needed showers and a place to set up but the one place for camping was taken over by the music festival, RiverSong. In order to camp there we were told we must pay $10 per tent plus the additional $15 per person for the festival…not ideal. Fortunately, we met David and Marilyn who already had a camp spot for the festival and took us under their wing. They let us set up our tents next to their amazing VW camper van. David and Marilyn are from Menomonie, WI and were delightful to spend the evening with. David kept saying how fun it was to kind of live vicariously through our trip since biking across the country was something he always wanted to do and had planned for at one time. I hope we didn’t take them away from the music too much but it was fun sharing stories with David and Marilyn–thanks!

Another storm swept through while in Hutchinson however. It wasn’t quite as big as the one in Desmet but once again the winds were strong enough to collapse our tent–this time while I was in it, sleeping. I was not quite as perky and entertained by it this time around. I was sleepy and cranky and the tent just wasn’t holding up. At about 10:45 in the evening Casey and I had to break down the tent and bolt through the wind and downpour to the nearest shelter. We were hoping we could just lay down in the pavilion and go to sleep but all the volunteers and workers from the music festival were there partying, celebrating a successful day. Being that I was just torn from sleep, I was totally out of it standing in the middle of this “party” looking completely lame and miserable while holding tightly to my sleeping bag and mat. When all of a sudden Angie, our guardian angel for the evening came sweeping over to us and offered up a room in her home, just like that. We accepted, just like that. Before we knew it we were being swept off in a motor vehicle! We drove with Angie to her home, met her lovely husband Todd and stumbled down into their cool basement where a queen size bed awaited us. Before passing out I checked my phone for the time. It was 11:15–just a half hour after running maniacally from our soaking tent, we were safe and warm in a queen size bed! Angie and Todd saved us that night and for no other reason than to help when help was needed. I can’t begin to express our gratitude.

We are now in the Twin Cities staying in the home of a nice guy we met biking through South Dakota. He is on his way west to San Francisco on his bicycle. We had a few beers together in the small town of Midland exchanging touring stories. When we told him our plans to bike into the cities he immediately offered up his house for a place to stay! Now here we are, in Steve’s beautiful home in St. Paul. Our stay in these great cities has been delightful. We feel a little foreign to cities after spending so much time out in the country but other than that it’s been very nice and luxurious to have all the options of a big city. Speaking of options, it’s breakfast time and Casey’s giving me the “let’s go, I need biscuits and sausage gravy” look. I think I will get eggs benedict…yummmm!! Life is good on and off the bike.

Until next time, dooon’chya knooow:)

-C^4

We are currently in De Smet, South Dakota–once home to Laura Ingalls Wilder of Little House on the Prairie. I was turned on to reading because of that series as a kid. I loved reading about Laura’s adventures on the frontier. And now here we are, on our own little frontier: the frontier to the east, and our ultimate destination.

We have been riding some longer days as of late; 72 miles from Pierre to Miller and 78 from Miller to De Smet, all on Hwy 14. The 78 we rode yesterday was the most challenging ride I’ve yet to experience; much more difficult than any mountain we’ve covered. There was a mighty wind coming out of the southeast, blowing back on us harder the harder we pushed. It was a defeating wind but it did not defeat us. After 50 miles I felt almost defeated but so annoyed that it wouldn’t stop blowing in my face, I wouldn’t stop pedaling until we reached De Smet.

The last 10 miles were agonizingly slow. I felt like I was biking the pace of a turtle. But eventually, after countless pedals and switching from the top of my handlebars to the drop bars, back to the top–I could see the sign for De Smet and Casey standing underneath cheering me on. What a sign of relief! The wind was still whipping at our faces but we could finally care less about which direction the wind was blowing; we were done for the day and had a rest day to look forward to on top of that!

De Smet has been a wonderful place for a rest day. The community here just raised over $100,000 for the city park and it is really beautiful, a small town gem. The park is camper-friendly and even has free hot showers! It took us less than a half-hour to feel right at home here. That’s right about when the storm started rolling in…

All day as we rode into this obstructive wind we could sense a major storm brewing. We stopped a few times for some hot coffee and baked treats to keep us happy throughout the ride and during one of those rest stops we overheard the forecast. There were severe storm warnings all the way from western Minnesota to Pierre, SD and we were right in the middle of that. They were even expecting a tornado or two to touch down in some areas. It was time to up the pace, beat the storm!

Fortunately we reached De Smet before this storm actually hit but when it did we still were out in the middle of it, exposed to all its elements. We were off the bikes, our tents were all set up and I was in the middle of cutting garlic and onions when the lightning started flashing in the distance. I put the knife down and we all walked over to the edge of the stone gazebo to watch the storm front head directly for us. All of a sudden the wind switched and we were blasted with a 50 mile per hour gust from the west! How ironic that we rode all day into a headwind and as we cook dinner the wind switches direction…

We were knocked out of our daze and made a mad dash for stashing all of our belongings to the east of this big stone wall where the wind couldn’t reach it. Unfortunately our tent was to the west of the wall and as we were watching one amazing bolt of lightning, we saw our tent collapse in another gust of wind that just about blew me over as well! Towels were blowing out into newly formed puddles, pots and pans were rattling all over the cement floor and then Casey and I had to rush out into the downpour to break down our tent as quickly as we could to re-set it up in a more protected spot. My heart was racing as my hair was blowing in all directions, my feet immersed in a puddle and lightning flashing all about. We were on the front of the storm and so we did what we thought best–stashed all our valuables in safe, dry places and finished cooking dinner while watching this epic earthly performance. It was a delightful storm and we were happy to be witness to it. After taking care of the tent and all our stuff we simply watched the storm take hold, lighting up the sky and soaking the land. My dad nicknamed me “Boomer” because ever since I was a baby the sound of thunderstorms would make me ecstatic. As a toddler I would sit on his knee on our screened-in porch giggling and clapping through a t-storm performance. Not much has changed; I thought this storm was brilliant.

It was all fun and good until we wanted to sleep after such a long riding day and the storm was still raging. This was no ordinary storm, over in a matter of minutes. It lasted until late into the night and our tent was a mess. It was dripping inside and small puddles were forming. At one point Casey and I were holding up the poles while inside the tent so it wouldn’t collapse on us. I was officially spooked. The rain was pounding on the thin tarp, testing its limits to the extreme; testing my limits to the extreme. I gave Casey the look that said I had enough of the this and once again we broke down our tent. This time we just threw everything wet into one of his paniers, grabbed all our sleeping gear and dashed to the bathrooms. We set up our sleeping mats and bags in the women’s shower. Outside we could still hear the wind howling and the thunder booming but we were safe and dry in the shower–we fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

It was a long day of fighting weather but it was also very exciting and one I’ll surely never forget. It’s not everyday you sleep in a public shower but I’ve gotta’ say, I didn’t hate it. We’ll be in Minnesota tomorrow and I can’t wait to see what adventures that state has for us…

Corey, Chris, Casey and I were all back together as a team again in The Bad Lands. Corey and Chris had their adventures while we had ours and we were happy to be reunited exchanging stories about the past couple days.

I mentioned before that the Bad Lands are a bit overwhelming when you first see them. I had some difficulty trying to write about them. And I’m not sure I really can. But I will say this: they truly are mesmorizing. In the late afternoon sun or early morning sunrise when the light is at a very low angle, the formations take on a whole new life. Rather than appearing stark and barren, they are colorful and glowing with light. Each formation displays an extravagent arrangement of stripes: charcoal black, pale yellow, deep red, burnt umber, and milk chocolate colored, exposing a long story to a geologist . They aren’t as big as I had imagined but surpisingly that impressed me more about these lands. When biking through them, it feels like you’re more a transient part of the formations rather than a small outsider looking up at a massive rock wall. At the “Big Badlands Overlook” I hopped off the bike and made my way down and over a narrow passing that brought me out to the very edge of one of the formations. I sat down and looked out into a surrounding valley of Jurassic-looking land. It seemed a beautiful but lonely place. Other than a few small cedar bushes grasping for dear life in the mighty gusts of wind along the steep cliffs and three turkey vulchers circling overhead, I did not see much life. But I am told this place is teeming with life if you look long and hard enough. We have places to be though. We bike east because that’s what we do.

We are cruising east much more rapidly now that we’re on Hwy 14 which cuts directly across the state to Minnesota. The land is also officially flat. Although we’re long past the Rockies, we’ve had some serious rollers, up and down all day long for the past couple weeks. But today the land was flat as a pancake; with corn growing to the left and wheat to the right. Casey couldn’t help but reference the double-stuffed taco from Taco-Bell with both wheat and corn tortillas. It wasn’t the most interesting scenery–or conversation we’ve had so far on this trip…

Other than the corn & wheat fields and the massive combines rolling down the highway to harvest epic proportions of crop, there is not much to report regarding our latest routes. Eastern South Dakota is a bit less dramatic than the western half. It is also much more mid-west than west. It is humid, there are an incredible amount of mesquitoes, the men wear trucker hats rather than ranching hats and every town has a water tower since the land is so flat. As a Michigander, Casey says he’s starting to feel right at home.

As the wild wild west has tapered off since crossing the Missouri, we are feeling a shift in this trip. There are kinds of transitions that seem to happen within our C-team. We bind a bit more tightly and develop deeper-set routines in our seemingly routine-less journey. We have officially been with one another non-stop for over 40 days traversing over 2,000 miles of road on bicycles packed with everything we need like turtles. We’ve climbed over big old mountains together and shared over 120 meals together–we’ve toasted with cold beers countless times. It’s been a challenge at times but for the most part, it’s been a very special gift. As we get close to Minnesota and to crossing the Mississippi, I think we’re all reflecting on the miles behind us. We’re reflecting on the unforgettable times we had biking through Idaho, Montana and western South Dakota where ultimate freedom reigns! How easy it was to just set up our tent on the land–behind a bar, in a little town park or in someone’s front yard: it’s A-OK in these small western communities. We’re also reflecting on the physical element; the amount of pedaling and sweating and eating it took to get us here. There is a sense of pride in how far we’ve come although we know there’s quite a long distance left to cover. Ultimately I think we’re just feeling happy and satisfied with how “well-greased” our team functioning is. We’ve gotten very efficient with the little components to this trip: the grocery shopping, the cooking, the dishes, the laundry, the nesting and the breaking down of nest, the self-grooming and the grooming of our bikes…it’s a dance and we know the steps. It’s our life at the moment and I think all of us are enjoying it thoroughly.

From Hill City our group of four split in two for a couple days. Casey and I wanted to do the scenic route out of The Black Hills on the twisty-turny, steep Needles Hwy featuring Sylvan Lake and the Cathedral Spires of “Needles”, the crazy granite rock formations jutting out from the hills. And Chris and Corey decided to do an epic ride all the way to Interior, SD on the eastern side of the Bad Lands–a 110 mile day, in the brutal heat, with very few towns for filling up on water!!

The Needles Hwy was spectacular–a highlight in scenery so far. I couldn’t help but think of my rock climbing days in Yosemite while cycling past these massive thorns of spiky, sticky granite. Such beautiful, ancient rock with the white sparkly quartz and feldspar so distinctive against the dark green pines. The “Needles Eye” was really exciting to see–the moon was still out early on this morning bike ride and it was right in the center of the “eye”, a natural hole or tunnel eroded through one of the granite towers. We went through a handful of one-lane granite tunnels at pretty high speeds during the descent, ringing our bells and shouting in an attempt to alert oncoming car or wildlife traffic…

Sylvan Lake was another surprising gem. I believe it is a man-made lake but it is incredibly gorgeous. Again these beautiful granite cliffs come straight down into the placid water to form a perfect reflection. We walked all along the length of the lake until we reached the white cliffs where you have to get in the water to access the bridge overlooking the entire lake. I was about to turn around to walk back to the bikes when Casey just jumps right in with his cycling shoes on and everything! So carefree, just like that! He turned around with a big smile, “well, are you coming?” Of course, I couldn’t be shown up like that. I followed suit and we rode the rest of the way with dripping cycling boots.

We came down out of the Needles on an hour long descent. We did our first ten miles in over three hours between all the climbing and sight-seeing but the last thirty took us little more than an hour. We cruised out on Hwy 36 to the tiny town of Hermosa, South Dakota. The landscape was entirely changed. After endless pines, granite spires and creeks lined with wildflowers, we suddenly emerged into an endless sea of hay fields–stretching as far as the eye could see. The only trees to speak of are ancient cottonwoods, which give a great shade but shed this annoying sticky cottony stuff. We rolled into this little town hoping for our bare essentials: water, groceries, place to sleep. What we got was so much more!

As we were first exploring the few businesses in town I badly needed a restroom but the one restaurant and bar in town were still closed. I found the American Legion and decided it was my best bet. There I met Allen Bishop who not only let me use the bathroom but helped me with our upcoming route and then invited us to stay the night in his front yard!

Allen is a longtime inhabitant of Hermosa. He owns about 4,000 acres of land for various types of agriculture. This time of year he is working hard bailing hay and caring for his cattle. He owns about 200 cows which doesn’t seem like a lot when one owns 4,000 acres but Allen taught us the ratio of necessary land per cow varies depending on climate. And in this part of South Dakota, with less fertile soil than eastern SD and much less rain, one needs at least 15 to 30 acres per 1 cow! Good thing the space here is as vast as it is. When the cattle mow down one acre they can literally mosey on down to greener pastures 4,000 times and still be on Allen’s property;)

Allen and his wife, Kerry are tremendous people. They both entertained us with the most exciting stories they could think of RE: Hermosa and talked fondly of the people and land surrounding them. As they spoke of their home, I couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of the relationship they have with their land. At one point Allen turned to Casey while driving us around his fields in his red pick-up and said, “I know this land real well, I know just about every rock by its first name.” Needless to say, Casey and I learned more about cattle and hay in 20 minutes with Allen than we could have from any book or magazine. As a longtime city-dweller, it was a welcome encounter with a most genuine South Dakota rancher.

Upon our return from the “25-cent tour” around Allen’s property, we found Kerry had already washed all our dishes from dinner and Allen asked us if we drink wine!!! Seriously, we couldn’t have felt more fortunate. Being pretty steady wine-drinkers, we were even more excited when we heard it was Allen’s own creation. He makes his own wine out of whatever fruit is on hand. Last night we toasted with his lovely cranberry wine, aka “Hermosa Hooch.” As we drank, we talked a little of politics and the silliness in our current state of division between parties. Allen is a self-described “confused Republican” and wishes for more regulation for the big corporations (especially for the Wal-marts of this world). And we all could agree that many of those in power seem to prefer this division in an effort to stifle change from the bottom which is something almost all Americans could use, no matter the party to which they “belong”. From politics we switched to a more pleasant entertainment. Allen read one of his favorite poems written by Kerry. It was a really awesome poem with lots of local flare for the town country fair…Kerry and I shared in our love for words while Allen and Casey talked numbers. It was such an amazing time and I will never forget Allen or Kerry of Hermosa, South Dakota. Thank you both for showing us the beauty that is in the spaciousness and graciousness of western South Dakota. Oh! And thanks for all the ground beef:)

We are now in Interior, SD–the eastern edge of the Bad Lands National Park. The Lakota gave this place its name, Maco Siko which translates to bad land. It is still scorching hot and the rock formations are difficult to look at in the bright sun. To be honest, I think I need a little time with this place before I can write about it. Everything about it is just overwhelming. Hopefully as the sun sets and I get some more rest I can formulate some thoughts about this wicked land…

Until then–

C^4

We finished up Montana in the tiny town of Alzada right on the border of Wyoming, 30 miles from South Dakota. Alzada is home to 37 people and two businesses. One convenient store with showers and campsites and one Stoneville Saloon with fried food, beer and free camping in the beer garden for us:)

Alzada and the Stoneville Saloon were a perfect garnish to our Montana experience. We hit the Saloon early because it was more inviting than the gas station/convenient store and because I was desperate for a t.v. to watch the US womens World Cup soccer game against Japan. We walked in to find a very old western-style bar back in beautiful condition, a plywood floor covered in wood shavings, two cowboys watching Nascar on a tiny t.v. and a bartender covered in tattoos. Diane, the bartender and owner of Stoneville Saloon hails from Huntington Beach, California but flocked to this part of the world with her motorcycle riding boyfriend back in the early 90′s when they frequented the big biker rally in Sturgis, 70 miles east of Alzada. She and her boyfriend, along with one other couple decided it would be a good idea to stay in Alzada and buy this old bar and fix it up for a good old time during the rally–you know, make it a perfect pit stop for all those leather-clad, tattooed and pierced hardcore bikers on their way to Sturgis. Well the one couple got tired of the small town life in Alzada and her boyfriend Rob, passed in 2001 leaving Diane of Southern California on the southeastern border of Montana. This old biker chick has a black rope tattooed around her neck, huge black glasses framing her face, big teased blonde locks, wears a tight little black dress and tall black boots while drinking bush light out of a straw in a coffee cup and chain smoking–all day long. She says she doesn’t really work hard but she puts in a lot of hours–being the only employee. When the bar is empty (which it usually is) she spends her time drawing or watching t.v. dramas like Law and Order. She decorated the womens bathroom with posters of half-naked men and the mens with half-naked women. It was fun getting to know a little bit about Diane of Alzada. I was just sad to see the US women lose when they played so darn well. A shoot-out is not a fun way to lose. Good for Japan though.

After a silly night at The Stoneville with Diane and other western transients we still managed to wake up at 5 am and break everything down quickly to get on the road before 7. We were excited for new states: Wyoming and South Dakota all in one day! We made it to Belle Fourche, SD by 10 am with 25 more miles to go to Deadwood–the top of the Black Hills National Forest. It was a long, hot, brutal 25 miles. The temperature soared after 11 to almost 100 degrees! We couldn’t drink enough water to feel normal and we had an intimidating climb into Deadwood. We found ourselves climbing for more than an hour at 1:30 in the afternoon, when the sun was zapping every little watt of energy I had in me. I hadn’t eaten enough so I started becoming a little irrational and winey especially when I realized my right shifter was broken:( It still changes gears but I have to pay attention to make sure it shifts properly. Casey gave me a couple chewy bars and some peanuts and forced me to stop for a rest before I really hit the wall. Of course he was right, I needed a break and some food and the remainder of the hill seemed managable. He’s a pretty great cycling partner.

Deadwood has a really neat-looking historical downtown but it’s filled with tourist garbage. There are motor cycles making serious noise on every corner and almost all the food for purchase was previously frozen. There wasn’t much in the way for camping so we broke down for the first time and got a cheap hotel–mainly for the air conditioning. The heat was overwhelming. After a couple budweisers, fried chicken and mashed potatoes surrounded by slot machines, we called it a night and watched the Tour de France from the comfort of our air conditioned-room and slept the night away.

The ride from Deadwood to Hill City, the “Heart of The Hills” was a major highlight of this trip so far. We were on the George S. Mickelson trail, a 110 mile long rails-to-trails path that cuts straight through the Black Hills, from Deadwood to Edgemont following the old 1880 train track. It was an old railroad that carried gold and ore out from the old mines in this area, as well as passengers who started settling here in the 1870′s. The last train carrying passengers through these hills was in 1983 and by 1998 the recreational path (brain-child of George S. Mickelson) was complete. The path now conveniently cuts through the hills with tunnels or passes over them with trestles. It follows along vibrant green pastures and small creeks, dark black cliffs and thick forests of pines. We had another hot day but instead of black pavement and high traffic, we had a small little gravel path lined with tall trees for shade. It was a delightful ride. Almost all the other bikers on the path took notice of all our stuff and asked us where we were coming from and where we were headed. I think we really need to start noting the different reactions we get when we tell them. It ranges from “Whoa! Impressive! to What?!! Crazy!” Either way, it was nice to be surrounded by fellow cyclists.

Hill City is a very cute little town. We’re spending a rest day here before battling the heat of the Badlands. We sleep tonight on the soft green grass of “The Little White Church” here in town. Another pastor taking us in. The sky is bright blue, the rocks are either dark black or stark white (with faces carved in them) and we’re surrounded by hills. South Dakota so far–great faces, great places!

We are almost done with Montana, tomorrow will be our last full riding day in the state. It’s been a long time since crossing a new boundary as this is one large piece of land. We’re very excited for South Dakota but also sad to leave this place that just kept on giving.

We are now staying for a third night indoors as a guest of the Catholic Church. Father Fabian put us up in a motel in Hardin, in Lame Deer we stayed with Deacon Joe inside the church and in Broadus we stay with Father Willy of St. David’s Church. All three men helped us feel at home with the generous Christian spirit yet in very different styles.

As we rode down another long hill into the tiny town of Lame Deer on the northern Cheyenne reservation, I first spotted a Catholic church where a young boy was mowing the lawn. I approached him to see about talking with the father or deacon about staying there for the evening. He took me straight away to Deacon Joe who received us brightly with warm energy and lots of local information. The Deacon is a wonderful man, a connector and hub of the small community with challenging issues such as addiction and extremely high unemployment. He gave us a detailed tour of his parish and told us how he and other members of the local ministery have learned to encourage old Cheyenne traditions and beliefs to coexist peacefully and cooperatively with Catholicism. The Deacon even invited us all along to see a very ancient Cheyenne tradition and celebration held in order to renew their people, The Sundance.

The Sundance is an ancient Cheyenne celebration. Deacon Joe was telling us how Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse participated in this Sundance just before defeating Custer in his “last stand”.It was really neat to see the Cheyenne perform such a vibrant ceremony; one near and dear to their hearts and history as a people. The Sundance is essentially a three day fast and dance surrounding “the center pole” holding all their prayers. The center pole is an enormous cluster of cherry wood branches reaching higher than the poles they use to steady a tepee. Once the dozen or so “pledgers” (those who are dancing and fasting), raise up the center pole together while chanting an old Cheyenne song, the whole rest of the Cheyenne community started “lu-luing” or making that noise where you tap your mouth rapidly while shouting. It was a powerful and proud moment for this Cheyenne community and we were so lucky to be on the outside looking in, respectfully. Clearly these people still have a deep connection and awareness for their roots on this beautiful land. I am so thankful to Deacon Joe for taking us to this Cheyenne ritual. After biking up and down, up and down, over all the green and yellow hills the Crow, Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho fought so bravely for in June of 1876, it was absolutely incredible to have a small peek at their relationship to the land after all these years. There must have been at least 200 Cheyenne people there to support each pledge, each helping in some way. I stood there under the full moon and thousands of stars, staring at this enormous butte of land beyond all their campfires–with the sweet scent of burning sage and hot coffee in the air. From each tepee we could hear soft giggling and the silent anticipation of the dance. It was something I could never forget.

Although the dance had us up until at least midnight, we rose right at sunrise the next morning. The brutal heat has been something to think about since central Montana and we’ve gotten much better about getting out earlier to beat it. We were on the road by 7 am, climbing up and over one more small mountain into the little town of Ashland. In fact, it’s hard to say which part of Montana has been more climbing, east or west. While western Montana had the Rockies, eastern has hill after hill and it gets amazingly exhausting going up and down, all day long. And at the very top of this particular 3,000 ft mountain is where Casey and I saw our first bear! Of all places we were expecting to see a bear in western Montana but here he was, crossing the street so nonchalantly. He didn’t see us until Casey started yelling about how we were going to get him and eat him for dinner and then he started running off into the woods. I was very excited to see a bear–a black bear, in the safe distance.

We rolled into Broadus just after noon on Saturday. We had plenty of time to figure out where we were going to sleep and what we were going to eat. We landed at another bar/bowling alley for a beer and fried food before going to meet with Father Willy about staying with him. When Casey and I knocked on his door, he answered with a smile, saying “your early.” Deacon Joe had already called him and told him about us. He was ready to take us in for the night and take us out to dinner after his Saturday evening mass! Father Willy is originally from Bombay, India. He first came to the US in 1999, to New York City before being placed in Ashland, MT on the Cheyenne Indian reservation. He told us all about how when working with the native Americans of Montana he finally had to ask them what they liked being called since it confused him so much that they were called Indians and he was Indian…they agreed it was confusing and said they preferred Native American. Father Willy was just relocated to Broadus after Father Chester passed away after 35 years of service in that town. Staying in the small church of St. David’s we came across a large photo album commemorating Fr Chester’s life as a priest in Broadus. It really demonstrated how tightly-knit the Christian community of ranchers and small business owners of Broadus is, with Father Chester as a hub and now Fr Willy. Again we felt so fortunate to be taken care of by a local leader.

Father Willy chose The Judge’s Chambers for taking us out. This Broadus restaurant is named for previously being the house of the county judge. It is a beautiful small white home with a wrap-around porch. The owner is growing all kinds of herbs, vegetables and grapes. As you walk through the white picket fence all you smell is fennel; the air is slightly cooler because of all the growing vines and trees. It really is a special place. The menu is small but divine. Steak with blue cheese smothered mushrooms, elk in a choke-cherry reduction sauce, a seven-cheese ravioli, lamb t-bone with mint and mashed potatoes or salmon with a dill cream sauce. I ordered the elk with garlic mashed potatoes and it was one of the best meals I have ever eaten. The elk was cooked to perfection with a bright pink center and a blackened, peppery crust covered in this sweet cherry reduction sauce which melted away any “gaminess” of the elk. We knew it was a special meal when we saw the one and only chef run out the front door, sweating bullets in the 100 degree heat with a pair of scissors to cut some more fresh herbs. I would have been impressed with this meal if I were in Paris, NYC, or Portland but I was in Broadus, Montana–home to 500 folks! Pretty cool.

After our 2 hour fancy dinner filled with Father Willy’s stories of being a young man in India and now a priest in rural Montana, the four of us returned to the cool basement of St. David’s Church wondering what brought us to Broadus…After such a strangely wonderful meal with Father Willy, after the Cheyenne Sundance with Deacon Joe and the hospitality of Father Fabian in Hardin we were all very thoughtful about who might be looking out for us. It seems everywhere we go, the local people care to make us comfortable in some small way and we couldn’t be more appreciative. The people we’ve met, the stories we’ve heard–it’s like being invited into the home of America, getting to know her, her people, ourselves. As a young American, Montana and her people have had an enormous impact.