7-13-10 Day 38: Williston, ND to Poplar, Montana: 77 miles in 6:46 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day.
Whew! Another day of taking my dose of ass kicking by the headwind. Today it was out of the northwest at up to 15-20mph. First I’d like to thank Mark and Sue for their hospitality. They were just wonderful hosts, making me feel so at home for a day’s stay in Williston. Their kids are just great, all four girls, all involved in some form of sports, and all very well mannered and polite to the tee. Great family. Mark served up some burgers from the grill and tuned me into several Red Stripes for refreshments. Sue had made some muffins, a fruit salad and some raw veggies. Fed like a king! The evening ended with the celebration of their daughter Riley’s B-Day. So I had some B-Day cake and then off to bed for another early riser in the morning. Again…..thanks so much Mark and Sue!!
Slept awesome and got up at 5 AM, quietly putting my gear together and getting ready to roll at 6:30. Mark got up and wished me well, and after a couple of bananas and a bagel & peanut butter I was on my way. It had rained, actually thunderstormed last night several times so the morning temp was quite nice. Now Mark and I had been watching the weather reports for the next few days and he told me that this day looked good and they had downgraded the winds, from like 20 or so mph to abut 10-15 out of the northwest. So I left knowing that I had some serious wind for the day. But when I started it was just a faint breeze.
Took the business Rt 2 out of town and I probably should have just backtracked and taken the truck route out of town because it seemed as though I got a complete north, south, east and west tour of the town, to finally head west into the nothingness. Already the oil folks were just hustling and bustling all the hell over the place. Mark had told me last night that in Williston they just cannot provide enough infrastructure to keep up with the mass influx of new people. Told me they still need thousands of new workers to keep up with the boom. Most of the traffic I saw was turning onto two routes: Rt 85 south and Rt 1804, both of which are two of the potential cycling routes I was going to ride on on my way to cycling through the ND Badlands. I mean it was just lines of trucks turning off of Rt 2 and onto these roads.
So these routes took care of a good bit of the traffic on Rt 2, but still, there were oodles of gas wells and derricks and storage towers along the road, right along with the truck traffic to serve them. Route 2 west eventually merged to a single lane on both sides, this after nearly 500 miles of dbl lane roads and the berm from heaven I had been riding on. The berm on the single lane dwindled down to about 3-4 feet, and was still filled with all sorts of red gravel and sand that they pour into the well areas. It’s a pain in the ass to have to watch for that stuff because it’s pretty sharp edged if you hit a big chunck, and could just possibly slit a tire. And along with the road gravel were the gradual climbs up and down the road.
After about an hour and a half, and without even a welcome sign or any kinds of fireworks or marching bands I entered Montana. And looking at that first mile marker sign was a sobering experience: 668 mile mark! Freaking outrageous ouch. Long, long state indeed, and about 400 miles of that is flat and rolling high plains with a headwind – my future for the next week. Almost immediately I hit road construction where the berm was totally gone and where there were several flagger points where the traffic was stopped and pilot cars were ushering traffic east and west. Since I was on a bike I was allowed to proceed with care. In places the road was just a total mess, bumpy crap with loose gravel. And …….the wind was picking up. My progress through this section was just pitifully slow. That’s about the time I saw a group of cyclists riding by, a group of women who were participating in a Tour De Cure ride from where I don’t know to where I don’t know. They had a support truck and the whole gig. Up ahead I some gals changing a flat. Stopped to see if they were ok, and indeed they were. They thanked me and I cycled on into what was now a pretty tough headwind and out of the construction area, where the berm was a measly 3 feet wide. Good thing was that the traffic was really, really light. Hardly any big rumbling trucks.
When the road would wind in just the right direction is was down to 8-9 mph. The landscape was spread out in from of me in this just amazing panorama, making me feel so freaking insignificant amidst such massiveness – 668 miles of massiveness! I was thinking, “damn, this is going to be THE single biggest challenge of this trip.” “Yup, dealing with an almost daily headwind with just no cover and then looking down stretches of road where you can see nothing but horizon, it can do a real headtrip to you!” Yes, it’s Big Sky country out here, but for me it’s Big Landscape country. Save for maybe a farm here and there, it’s just limitless landscape that’s so big that it blows your mind.
Throw in the wind and you feel like you’re removing sand from a giant pile just a grain at a time. Yea, that’s how 8-9 mph feels in such a big place. Now I had kind of decided that I’d see how the weather was and ride to Culbertson if the wind was bad, or push further is the wind was good. Well, about 3 hours in I had decided on Culbertson because the wind was just relentless. The only good thing was that I had picked up an hour by riding into Montana and the Mountain Time Zone, so I was at 8:30 AM 3 hours into the ride. So I pushed on to Culbertson thinking I’d make it a mellow day – well, mellow is not the word when you’re pushing into the wind hour after hour.
Made it to Culbertson in 4 hours, and that last half hour, where I could see the town from afar, but it was still like 6-7 miles away, and into the ever increasing wind, that was tough. Checked out an efficiency but the lady said they were totally booked by the women’s bike tour I had seen. Seems that was group number one. A second group was supposed to arrive later in the day. She did make a call to Poplar to another place and asked about availability. They were good – all I had to do was ride another 30 miles into the wind. Suck it up! She gave me a couple of glasses of ice tea and said I could relax in a room for a bit if I wanted, but I just wanted to keep rolling, and not let the wind pick up even more, so I thanked her and pedaled on to Poplar. The lady also told me I could take another road to Poplar, where I’d miss some rollers.
Got going and it was climbing central, and headwind central. The lady at the motel had told me I’d go five miles and then take a left on Hwy 1. So I climbed up and down and got worked by the headwind at the same time. Actually started to feel ok from the Dr Pepper I bought and the two ice teas the lady had given me. Felt reinvigorated actually, and started thinking of going for the gold and trying for Wolf Point, another 20 miles past Poplar. Yea, kind of hemmed and hawed about Poplar V Wolf Point. And as usual, when the wind was just ferocious, it was Poplar. When it was it had temporarily mellowed out, it was Wolf Point.
Got to the turn-off the lady told me about …….but there was a sign that read: Rough road ahead. NOPE. I’ll take the hills rather than take a chance on some garbled up piece of crap road where I get my eyeballs jittered right out of their sockets. Give me them there rollers!
Now I’m riding in an Indian reservation right now, and it’s about 100 miles in length, and the first town I passed was Brockton, and it was kind of a shabby little place. Kept it rolling. By the time that Hyw 1 rejoined Rt 2 the rollers ceased and it was just super easy false flats and just plain flat – BUT with a 15 mph headwind. Yea, you can just call me MR. Headwind at the end of this trip. I need to have my head examined for challenging myself to this east to west gig! I bloody have nightmares of these gale force headwinds just picking me up and taking me all the way back to Ohio.
So 20 miles down through Brockton, and 13 to go to Poplar. Did the 20 in about 1:30 hours. Figured on another 1:10 hours to get to Poplar. By noon, the winds had really picked up and my progress was grinding down to a slow, plodding, snail’s pace. Yup, poplar it was – no way was I going to fight for another 20 miles from Poplar to Wolf Point. And that decision was cemented on the final stretch to Poplar, where I could see the town’s water towers from like 7-8 miles away, but the wind was just brutal, making it seem as if I was seeing a mirage. Slowly, painfully I approached those damned water towers, and then on the final stretch, like the last 2 miles, the wind almost seemed to have a mind of its own, and a deviant one at that, where it was really gusting. That was a monster stretch.
Arrived into town and hit the Jolly Swagman Inn. Yup, I’m not making this up. Looks like a minimum security prison, but surprisingly it’s a dynamite place, what with a flat screen TV, microwave, regrig. Nice place. The lady was just wonderful, welcoming me to Montana and kind of giving my direction on how to go about my business in a reservation community – keep bike gear inside (like I never do that?) don’t wander around after dark, and just be friendly. She said we’re very good here, but that some of the folks out here get a bit tippsy at night, so just don’t go bar hopping or night exploring in Poplar! Hell, I was just torched so taking a tour of the town was like way down on the “must do” list.
Walked a block to the grocery and picked up a bunch of frozen dinners for lunch and then dinner. She had told me that there’s a restaurant in town, but that the service sucks – they just don’t care. So I opted to do my own gig here in the efficiency. Came back with 2 hungry man frozen dinners that I heated up, and then had two of these cup of soup ramen noodle things. Got PBJ for later also. So I’m pretty set in my little prison motel. All is good.
Today I made up a half day on my schedule through Montan, so tomorrow I hope to make another longish ride to make up another half day – to give me a full day ahead of Montana schedule. I’ll shoot for the town of Glasgow, about 68-70 miles from Poplar, and out of the reservation. Bad thing is that the wind is expected to be out of the west at 22 mph! This could be another toughie, and I’ll get on the road at 6 AM just to try to get a jump on the always increasing winds. They tend to max out at around noon to one.
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