7-3-10 Day 28: Bemidji, Minnesota to Crookston, Minnesota: 87miles in 6:11 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day.
This was THE hardest day of the trip, and had to be one of the hardest days I’ve had experienced in a long, long time. Heat, cross headwind, humidity. Wow, it just crushed me mentally and physically.
I had that KFC/Ben & Jerry’s combo early last eve, and it just didn’t sit well in my stomach late last night. Woke up with one of Judy’s infamous “tummy aches.” Kept me up for an hr or so before I drifted back to sleep. Then I got up early, at 5 AM so I could get a good start on the heat. Heck the sun pierces through the side of the tent at that time so I sure as heck didn’t need an alarm. Already, at 5 AM you could just cut the air with a knife, and I knew as I packed my gear up that today was going to be a real test. Ate a couple of muffins I bought at the KOA lobby last eve and got going. I was riding at app. 6:15 AM. The wind was still really strong out of the southwest. Got it rolling and found that I was either fighting a cross headwind or partially enjoying a crosswind, as I could kind of lean into the wind and tack a bit to get a push. But whatever I did I just could not get my speed in a good 14-15 mph mode. Maybe I was just tired and still a bit on the sour stomach side.
The first 22 miles to Bagley were filled with these little gradual rollers, so I was constantly slowing down and then speeding up. Just no continuity to the ride. And the heat…..man I was dripping sweat from the gun, wiping my forehead clean of the dripping sweat just 15 minutes into the ride. Was a bit worried that this kind of heat was going to crack me for sure, no matter how mellow I tried to keep the pace. Made it to Bagley and low and behold there was indeed a little efficiency motel there, contrary to what some folks had told me yesterday, and I kind of regretted not just pushing forward so that I’d have cut this day back to just over 60 miles. But….you never know. Could well have gone the other way and I’d have been doing a knock-knock or pitching it in the woods. So anyway, 22 miles down and 65 to go.
Once through Bagley the terrain really flattened out and I felt as though I’d just entered real prairie land, just possibly the be beginning of the Great Plains. Lots of farmland stretched out in front of me like this massive panoramic image. It was pretty awe-inspiring. BUT, with that open farmland came the wrath of the winds, going on full gale mode without the trees to take the bite out of the blow. At times I was buffeted around my 10-foot berm like a paper bag being blown around. Thankfully I had so much room to ride on, plus, the traffic today, being Saturday July 3rd, was pretty mild indeed. I had decided that I’d probably need to take two rest stops on a day like today, so the first I had decided would be in Fosston, where I stopped at a gas station/convenience store for a coke, Powerade and a couple of chocolate chip cookies. I was soaked in sweat and just sticky as all hell. Downed the stuff in 10 min and was back on the bike fighting the wind and the torrid humidity. And like yesterday, as the road twisted and turned was the way the wind blew. At times – great cross. At other times, this ferocious cross headwind that just ground me down to a stall, forcing me to go in and out of the saddle like a metronome just to keep some semblance to rhythm. Still, I wasn’t killing it on the pedals, knowing that if I expended just a bit too much energy on a bigger gear, it could very well cook me an hour or so down the road. Nope, had to keep spin in the stroke.
Then the road took this nice turn to the north and I had a wonderful cross tailwind for about 8-10 miles, enabling me to put it down to 15-17 mph. Felt awesome and I kind of thought that that might be my future for the rest of the day. What a great escape that would be. NOT! That’s about when I saw the sign for Crookston – 16 miles. And the road twisted back right into the jaws of the wind. Upshifted like three times until I found a gear that I could spin and still make some headway – at 10-11 mph! It was mentally very challenging to just keep plugging away. I finally had to take my sunglasses off because the sweat was just pouring down my forehead. I also had grabbed a fist full of paper towel from the gas station where I got the coke, and I had it stuck between my handlebar bag so I could wipe my forehead and eye sockets occasionally.
And on that 16-mile stretch, I was using that paper towel a lot. My eye sockets were just stinging from the sweat. My forehead burned because I had been rubbing sweat off of it for over 5 hrs. My head hurt, my breathing felt labored, and I was just getting my arse handed to me by wind, humidity and heat. Felt like I was riding in an inferno – and it was only just a bit after 11 AM! To make matters worse, the beginning of that 16-mile stretch was supposed to be where my second stop, but there was nothing, and I mean NOTHING in the area – not even a house off of the road. Just miles of field. And at times I must have seen mirages because I’d think I saw a stoplight way, way up the road, where maybe there’d be a gas station. But I’d ride for 10-15 minutes – and nothing.
I finally just stopped, got off the bike and grabbed a the Powerade bottle I’d filled with extra water. Drained it immediately. Colleted myself and then started riding again. And this went on for another 20 min or so until I figured that there would be NO other stop, at least not at a gas station. And that’s when I passed a farmhouse. I did a U turn, pulled in the drive, parked my bike against a barn and went over and knocked on the house door. A gentleman came out and looked at me rather curiously, seeing that I was drenched in sweat, with my hair hanging out of the front of my helmet in these sticky, stuck together strands. I asked if I could fill my bottles with his spigot. He instead invited me in and brought out 2 bottles of ice cold bottled water. I guzzled them down in no time. Then he brought another. This one I kind of swigged on as we talked. Told him about my trip – the why’s, where’s and how long’s.
He asked me about my cause. I chuckled, as I’m seeing and hearing about nothing but “causes” for everything everyone does nowadays. A cause for this, a cause for that. Got to be a cause. I laughed and told him my cause was ME. “Call it my mid life crisis,” I told him. “I’m doing these things because I may never have a chance again in my life to do things like this. That’s my cause – my mortality!” He and his wife got a kick out of that one. Said that they were also 53 years old, and he totally understood where I was coming from. He went out to the frig and grabbed me yet another ice cold bottle of water while his wife fished out some little bite sized pieces of candy for me – Kit Kat and Snickers.
They are a farm family and he had been in his AC building working on some farm equipment when I arrived. His wife offered my a Gatorade and more food but I declined. I swear that they would have had me sit down to dinner for gosh’s sake but I really needed to just keep moving on to Crookston, which he said was just 5-6 miles up the road. I was totally into finding an efficiency, a motel, a hotel, anything where I could just lay down and sleep. I mean I was feeling like I’d just done a marathon in the heat, and I was dragging my tail in a very big way. So I thanked them profusely and got back on the bike and pedaled into the cross headwind.
Kept telling myself that it was just 5 miles, from Hampton Hills to Truxell Road. Put it in an easy gear and just spun at 10-11 mph, in and out of the saddle, one mile at a time, craning my neck to see a town looming in the horizon. Nothing. Time was just standing still. Then I went around this sweeping turn and got a change in the wind direction, a cross tailwind. Dropped it down a couple of gears and pumped on the pedals, and there it was…first the Crookston Corporation Limit sign, and then the town itself. The farmer had told me that there was a little “cheapie” motel on the west side of town, so that’s where I headed. Finally, finally saw it. Cost…35 bucks, and I’d of paid double that just to shower and then lay my sorry butt down on a bed to pass out.
Got in and be darned of the start of the Tour De France coverage wasn’t on. So I showered, washed my sweat soaked cloths in the sink, laid them out on the sidewalk to dry, and then crashed on the bed with water next to me to watch the Tour. I mean I was just totaled today. But made it 87 miles in just over 6 hours. I feel good about enduring the day and finishing what I’d set out to do this morning. Great feeling indeed. There’s a Chinese buffet a block away, and I’m going to totally destroy that bugger in another half hour.
Tomorrow – North Dakota here I come. Weather is supposed to be much cooler, with the chance of a thunderstorm coming through this afternoon and evening. Looking at low 80’s tomorrow with much less humidity. Well, we’ll see. The weatherpeople have been wrong much more than right on this trip so far.
Late…….Pete
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