Day 35: Good Country

Today marks the beginning of a new era, patient readers. One of rolling grassland, sweltering heat, and an ever-diminishing frontier. Yes, when we crossed the Missouri river and -- after a stop at the famed "Al's Oasis" -- climbed the formidible Manganese Hill into central South Dakota, we rode right over the broken yellow line separating the first 1700 miles of our trip from the last. In actual fact, there was no such line on that stretch (I will not apologize for taking poetic license) because we were cycling the shoulder of I-90; you can do that, and often must, in many of the less populous western states. As tractor-trailers roared over the crest of the escarpment, I left the Governor George Aiken lying outside the rumble stip and cheered Bonesy up the last few yards of the 3 mile climb. She rolled up to me, bumped my fist with hers, and said, "that was kind of fun." We have truly come a long way.
We did it into 20 mph headwinds, too, abiding readers! All day they blew. I hate to resurface after two weeks of radio silence and complain about the weather, but the weather for the past two weeks has just been rotten. Chilly, lots of rain, headwinds, you name it. We had taken to calling it the summer that wasn't. Then today was just an amber-waves-of-grain stunner (save for the wind), and the next sevaral are supposed to be gorgeous as well, with temperatures cracking triple digits on Wednesday (probably when we'll hit the Badlands! How awesome is that?). Anyway, larger noise w/r/t weather is that we have felt very keenly how intimately our lives can be tied to nature, and how little stands in the way of that relationship in life at home. Quality of days is largely dictated by atmosphere and terrain out here, which is a little tough but also sort of freeing.
So anyone still reading this would, I presume, like to be filled in on the past 13 days or whatever it's been. Well, tough noogies, as mother always says. Typing on this thing is super tedious and I want to go to sleep so I can wake up and ride another beautiful day on the high plains.
... But OK, real quick. 2 cities: St. Paul and Sioux Falls. Two warm showers hosts: Christine in St. Paul (who happens to be a UVM alum) and Dave in Mitchell, SD. Both truly awesome people who merit much more discussion- THANK YOU, YOU GUYS. 1 Native companion: Randall, whom we met in a St. Paul bike shop and who guided us through Minneapolis's totally impressive network of trails. Lots of other great people, of course, and a car show in Sioux Falls through the inebriated crowds at which we pushed our bikes. A light show at the eponymous falls - sponsored by Wells Fargo - that presented Their Fair City's history. The Mall of America, at which we declined to ride the roller coaster(s), and ate pretty good Thai food-court food, and felt uneasy. Common Good Books (G. Keillor, prop.), where I bought a signed copy of Lake Wobegon Days and felt guilty for not blogging. A few motels because of the blasted rain. Untold numbers of hamburgers and Snickers bars. 2 really nice guys going east-west whom we met outsida Sioux Falls and wanted to meet up with for a beer or something but got distracted by great host Dave. As for quotables, which I know at least one of our Platinum Club readers enjoys, there have been some real gems:

3. "Watch out for the snakes on the other side of the river." -Gas station clerk re: the Missouri

2. "Where is Vermont?" -Biker guy at a gas station who, when informed of the state's proximity to New Hampshire, offered: "oh, like near Maine."

1. "Well, Ted'd probably let you set up in back of the motel there, and anyway, you're in good country." -Ruggedly handsome biker guy in Reliance, SD just this afternoon. We do indeed seem to be in good country.

That's it. If you want to learn more, you'll have to read (and hopefully purchase) the book.
Ride on.