The first day of this year's journey started much like any other. I got up, worked out and then went to work. My vacation time is very limited, so to try and conserve as much as possible for family-related activities, I decided to work during the morning and just take the afternoon off. Of course, this means I'm quite preoccupied while sitting in the office waiting for the noon whistle, but what can you do?
At long last 12:00 rolled around and I ditched work. I had ridden my racing bicycle to work that day (as I was in training for a triathlon) so I had to ride home and switch to the motorcycle. The direct route from work to home is about five miles. However, my bicycle is not designed for riding in traffic (shifters on the aero bars, brakes on the pursuit bars, ultra skinny tires, etc.) and I didn't feel comfortable risking it on the city streets just to get home a few minutes sooner.
Sioux Falls has a wonderful bike path system that circles the entire city. This was the method in which I had ridden to work, so I would take the same route home as well. The only problem is that taking the bike path home means I would be riding ten miles instead of five. However, the lack of (car) traffic would allow me to run higher speeds.
I hit the trail and, partly due to being anxious to hit the road and partly due to my addictive personality that doesn't let me do anything half-way, cranked as hard as I could on the bicycle. I made the 10 mile trip home in about 24 minutes, which really is only about 4 minutes slower than I can drive home through traffic.
The day was fairly warm, with temps in the low 80's. The humidity, however, was pretty intense. By the time I rode into the driveway, I was so soaked with sweat it looked like I had just gotten out of the shower. I walked in the house and my son busted out laughing at me. My wife just grimaced, then ran from me when I tried to give her a hug.
I cleaned up a bit, changed into clothing more suitable for motorcycle riding and finished packing up the stuff I couldn't pack the previous night (shaving kit, etc.) I loaded everything onto the bike and said my goodbyes to the family.
I had no sooner swung a leg over the bike when a guy walked into my driveway and started his spiel. I waited until he paused to take a breath and told him "I'm not interested in buying a security system."
He seemed dumbfounded for a moment, then asked "How did you know I work for a security company?"
I pointed to his name tag that clearly had the company name printed on it, and informed him of my literacy. It seems to me that a security company employee would be up on high-tech surveillance methods such as reading, but this boy wasn't that bright. He continued on about how they could install an alarm system and it wouldn't cost me anything (yeah, right!)
After not comprehending my subtle hints, or perhaps just ignoring them, I could tell he wasn't going to walk away easy. I finally had to get a little rude with him, and told him I wasn't interested and that I didn't want any of my neighbors thinking I sent him to their house and that I was now leaving. I fired up the bike and pulled out at 1:20 PM. Approximately twenty minutes later than I had hoped.
The first leg of the day's journey took me north from Sioux Falls on interstate 29. This portion of South Dakota is fairly treeless with rolling hills. The road is straight as an arrow and there's not much to see, scenery-wise. The good news is that the sun was out, the temp was in the mid-80's and the wind wasn't too bad. Calm days in South Dakota are rare. A 15 mph minimum wind can be expected more often than not. There are times when the wind here can get downright brutal. But thankfully, today wasn't one of them.
The humidity was high, but as I buzzed down the interstate at 75 mph it really wasn't noticeable. The closer I got to my first gas stop in Sisseton, SD, however, the cloudier it got and the more the wind picked up. I started to sense I was going to get wet.
I pulled into a gas station at the Sisseton exit, and filled up. The station was quite busy, being the only gas stop for quite a ways in any direction. Once I got off the bike and started my fueling routine, I suddenly needed the restroom in a most severe way. I normally wouldn't bother mentioning this except the pressure unexpectedly mounted in a most spectacular fashion.
I quickly as possible finished gassing up, then took a moment to ride my bike over to a parking area before going inside, due to the number of people waiting in line for the pumps and me not wanting to get accosted and subsequently wet myself, not so much out of fear as sheer bladder fullness.
By this point I was near running into the gas station, only to find the restrooms closed for cleaning. Thankfully there was a note that said more restrooms were available in the back of the restaraunt. I followed a labyrinth of hallways until I finally located the facilities. Much to my relief (mentally and physically) these restrooms were not closed.
I am accustomed to eating five or six small meals each day, rather than three large ones. I was due to eat and my stomach was growling. I picked up a turkey and swiss sandwich, a bag of chex mix and a bottle of iced tea. The chex mix and tea I could consume on the road, but eating the sandwich while riding would have been an exercise in extreme deftness, that of which I do not possess. So I stood by my bike and ate the sandwich.
As I stood there, I noted two things. One, the clouds were looking more and more ominous, especially to the north which was the direction I was heading. Second, I realized that patrolling the property was an armed security guard. Apparently this gas station was a high crime location?
I finished up my sandwich, and hit the road. I munched on the chex mix and drank my tea, which in this portion of South Dakota were the two most interesting things I could hope to experience.
A little ways up the road, I hit the North Dakota border. Scratch another state off my motorcycle list!
Sure enough, a few miles across the border it started to rain. I pulled over on an off-ramp and donned my rain gear. I also felt better about not getting the chance to wash the bike before I left.
The surest cure for a rainy day is for me to put on rain gear. Thirty miles up the road the rain had stopped and the sun was out again. So I made another stop to remove the rain gear.
Further up the road I reached the thriving town of Fargo, ND. I got on I-94 heading west, and entered into Minnesota. I would have taken a picture of the border sign, but it was in the middle of road construction and this day wasn't a good day to die.
I didn't stay on the interstate too long into Minnesota when I took a slight jog to the north, then picked up highway 10 heading east towards Detroit Lakes, MN. This road was fairly busy, with what looked like mostly vacation traffic. The scenery was slowly improving, but still nothing to write home (or write the internet) about.
In my rear view mirror I could see what looked like a storm brewing in the distance. Where I was, however, was sunny and nice. I hoped that I could stay ahead of the storm the rest of the day.
I made it to Detroit Lakes and decided to make a gas stop, mostly for convenience and a chance to stretch. I could have pressed on further, but my body was really starting to complain. I don't think it was complaining that much about the motorcycle ride. I think most of it was the 20 mile bicycle ride and the 3 mile run I did that morning. Triathletes call this a "brick", which means Bike, Run, ICK! Sure seemed like a good idea at the time!
The thing I remember most about this gas stop was that they had the country music cranked up LOUD! I mean painfully loud. I'm not a country music fan either.
I continued east out of Detroit Lakes on highway 34. From here on the scenery became very nice. I stopped and snapped a few photos, but there were too many beautiful picture opportunities to capture them all. Plus, the storm that was brewing in the west looked to be getting bigger and while it wasn't getting closer, I could tell I wasn't gaining on it much either.
As I got closer to Park Rapids, MN, a pack of skunks wandered out on the road in front of me. Thankfully I didn't hit them, as that would have added a new aromatic dimension to this adventure. There were five or six full-grown skunks in the group. I didn't realize skunks were pack animals!
At Park Rapids, I turned north on highway 71 which would take me the rest of the way into Bemidji. This highway goes right by Istasca State Park, which is where the mouth of the Mississippi river is located. Unfortunately to see it one has to enter the park and hike a bit, so I put that on my "some other time" list.
As I was now heading north, I could see the storm gaining on me from the west. With my late departure that day I was running behind schedule. I was very hungry for supper, but I wanted to make it to Bemidji by 8 PM if at all possible, and for sure I wanted to beat this storm.
I finally made it to Bemidji and found the KOA campground over on highway 2. The clouds were dark and foreboding. I checked into the KOA and found my camp site. I decided to attempt to get my tent set up before the rain hit, and proceeded to unpack everything and roll it out on the ground.
Unfortunately, I had the tent half way assembled when the sky unleashed. It downpoured hard. I was getting soaked fast, so I quick ran over to the bike and put my rain gear on. Then I noticed the tent was filling up with water as I hadn't yet gotten the rain fly up. Mid way through that, I noticed my sleeping bag was out in the open taking the brunt of the storm, so I quick threw that in a plastic bag I had.
Have you ever tried to move quick in rain gear? It has an interesting quirk that on any other day would have been amusing but at this point in time was really starting to peeve me. When I would turn my head, the hood of the rain gear would remain facing forward while my head rotated underneath. Of course, in this position one sees very little, if anything, of value.
I was running around like a headless chicken trying to get the tent set up and minimize the water damage to everything else, and my hood was getting in my way. Finally I just accepted the fact that I was going to get wet and pulled it down. This effectively created a sort of funnel, that would collect rain then transfer it viaduct fashion down my back.
Once the tent was up, I threw everything I could inside. I was quite upset at this point, and I must admit that a certain home alarm salesman was taking the brunt of my hate. Had he not delayed me twenty minutes, the tent would have been set up before the rain hit, and everything would still be relatively dry. Lucky for him, I was now 400 miles away otherwise I probably would have violated his security perimeter.
At this point I decided that there wasn't anything I could do until the rain stopped. I was starving hungry so I decided to retreat to a dry restaraunt where I could get some food and assess my situation.
Normally I like to try new places to eat when I travel. However it was now after 9:00 at night, and I was unsure of the hours of the different establishments in Bemidji. Plus I had a hankering for pancakes. I decided to stop at a Perkins and eat. I'm not a huge Perkins fan, but they had pancakes and they were open 24 hours. So I stopped.
I came inside, took off my rain gear and hung it on the coat rack. My clothes were wet enough underneath that I might as well not have had them on anyway. I washed up in the restroom, then took a seat and ordered an omlette with pancakes.
While I waited for the food, I called my wife and gave her a brief rundown of the previous hour's events. Then the food came and I devoured it. It was surprisingly good.
After a few minutes of rest, the rain had stopped and I was feeling human again. I decided to return to the camp site and assess the damage.
I did have the presence of mind to remember that the KOA had a laundry room, so I could at least dry the clothing I had on. On a motorcycle trip there is very limited room to pack, so I had only brought two pairs of jeans. I didn't feel like wearing the other pair and leaving the current ones in my bag to smell like a wet dog for the rest of the trip. I got change for a five with the cashier, so I would have some one dollar bills for the laundromat.
I rode back in the dark. When I arrived, I dug around and found my flashlight and discovered that the bottom of my tent had an inch of water in most of it. This was going to make for a challenge trying to figure out how to soak up all this water. Thankfully my sleeping bag was still in the plastic garbage bag, so that was dry.
I decided that as long as I was doing laundry, I might as well use my clothes from my bag to soak up the water. So that's what I did. Did you know that a sweatshirt jacket will soak up a lot of water? It was amazing how much water it held. So I now had a relatively dry tent floor, and a big pile of wet laundry.
I gathered up the clothes and hiked over to the laundry room. Once I got inside, I was happy to find four washers and four driers. Perfect! Then I noticed that they all took quarters, which I was expecting, but that the room didn't have a change machine, which I wasn't expecting.
I stood there in my bewilderment for a few minutes deciding on a course of action. It was now eleven thirty at night. I was dog tired, and had a long day ahead of me in the morning. The last thing I wanted to do right now was to pack all my wet stuff up and find a 24 hour laundromat with a change machine.
What I did find, however, was that the laundry room had plenty of hangars and places to hang clothing. So that was the route I took. I hung my wet clothing all over the room, wherever I could find a suitable lip on which to mount the hangar. I didn't expect the clothes to dry by morning, but at least this might reduce them to just being damp. Of course, the laundry room was left unlocked all night and somebody could have taken my clothes, but I decided that if they were desperate enough to steal my wet underwear, then they needed the clothes worse than I.
My wife asked if I took a picture of the clothes hanging all over the room. It never even occurred to me to do this. I wish I would have. That would have been a great shot.
I hit the showers and cleaned up. After a good sudsing and a shave I felt near human. Back in the tent, which was plesantly dry thanks to my impromptu sponges, I crawled into my sleeping bag. I read a little bit in my book, and fell asleep. It was the end of what turned out to be a very stressful evening.
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This page last updated on 06/28/2018