I had completely forgotten about Salem Sue until once again I had her in my sights from miles away. Proudly she stands, near exit 127 on the 94, west of Bismark. Up close, the horrendous sight of her pendulous and swollen udder is enough to send one running, screaming, back down the hill. I was almost sorry I had stopped and climbed the only hill in the region for a closeup look at this giant fiberglass milk cow.
Just try and imagine the size of the cowpie that little beauty could produce.
I’ll leave it to you to examine the link. I just couldn’t bear to take a picture of a giant plastic cow, because basically, it reminded me of all of those cutsie cow salt and pepper shaker sets with cow creamers that I see in folksie cafes on at least every second bike trip.
Sometimes, it’s best to look away from the wreck on the side of the road.
My gypsy wedding tour has come to a grinding halt in Fond du Lac, where an itinerant nail has found its way into my front tire. What is this affinity that my tires have for nails, I ask. The last time it was in Santa Rosa, thus a free ride to Santa Fe. That was good. I’d never been there before.
All is not lost, however. I missed the cold weather by being holed up in a hotel room waiting for maintenance, since I haven’t been able to find a front Metzler — to match the newly-installed rear — in a timely manner.
The wedding is toast now, since I’m a day’s ride away.
East of Jordan, Montana 200 narrows but travels through mini-badlands for ten miles or so. The early-morning low angle of the sun forces the landscape to stand out in shadowy contrast to the blue sky. Eventually the ground flattens to grain and cattle country once more, and hawks climb high in their search for prey. Pheasants on the side and in the middle of the road like flying up into my path, and I tag a couple. Feathers predominate when I do.
At Circle, I stop for breakfast, but instead discover the Lunchbox, owned and operated by Billie for the past two years. Instead of the eggs I was planning on having, I had a chicken salad wrap and some broccoli soup – much healthier in the long run. Billie says that the place is popular with the locals, and I guess it must be, although Circle is little more than a bump in the road.
Eventually I’m on the boring 94 headed east to Fargo and making good time.
It’s another great riding day, with plenty of sunshine and blue sky.
Montana 200 is a desolate little bit of twolane blacktop that runs east from Missoula through Great Falls and Lewistown all the way to Duluth on Lake Superior. A short leg south allows it to hook onto the 94 approximately 200 miles west of Bismark. Outside of those major centers lies not much of anything, and perhaps that makes the leg I traveled today one of the least-traveled roads I’ve ever been on. I don’t think I encountered more than a dozen cars the entire day while riding the more isolated parts of the highway.
The roadside motels all look like they’ve seen better days, but that doesn’t mean that they’re bad. I stopped at a brand new rest area east of Lewistown and encountered another biker who told me about a 40 dollar room in Jordan, so here I am. It’s not too bad — single story, very old, but it appears kept up. The bathroom is small, which means that it was probably built in the 50s or early 60s. When the main air conditioner kicks in, the entire building shakes and buzzes. Entertainment appears to be sitting in the box of the pickup in the parking lot and talking on a cellphone.
But that’s all right. The sheets are clean and should it rain, it looks like the roof won’t leak. And by the forecast, the weather tomorrow will be sunny and warm, just like today.
I‘ll be hitting the road in a couple of days, headed for Chi-town; the Windy City; Chicagoland. I’m riding out to a wedding – not mine! I hasten to add – but that of a friend. LittleBigGirl and Rick will be doing the deed out in the burbs on Saturday.
So far, I’ve dug out an old suit – the only one I didn’t throw out; suspenders to go with the pants; a shirt (my last dress shirt, or reasonable facsimile thereof). I had to buy a tie, since I threw out my collection of hundreds – my only vanity, and a pair of Converse high-tops. There’s no damned way in hell I’m wearing shoes, since I threw all of those out too and I wholeheartedly refuse to buy more.
It’s a 106 miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes; it’s dark and we’re wearing sun glasses. Hit it! — The Blues Brothers
The Precambrian Shield is 4.5 billion years old and is largely granite and gneiss, earth’s oldest rock. Glaciation scraped the rock clean of most surface debris over the millennia as it moved back and forth, exposing bare rock and lake-filled hollows. Thin soil lies on top of bedrock, while there are many bare rock outcrops, all of this caused by the last ice age, some six to 15,000 years ago, depending on location.
Originally the shield was a region of large mountains and volcanic activity, but subsequent to that the area eroded. Rock that forms the Shield surface was once far below the surface, and pressure and temperature at depth created the many minerals in the rocks.
Since the last ice age, the area has become covered with a thick boreal forest of coniferous and deciduous trees. Mining and logging are common now. Shield country is a common home to single-industry towns of either pulp and paper or mining, or a combination of the two. Hunting and fishing are favorite activities of the local residents.
Moose are well-known to populate the Shield. If you or someone you know has ever hit a deer with a car, you’ll know what damage they do. Moose, which can weigh over 2,000 pounds, are known to bring semi-transports to their knees, and will destroy a mere automobile.
Both deer and moose are common sights along the roads, but particularly in early morning or late evening they can be seen on the shoulders or slightly off-road in the ditches. Keeping an eye to those areas could mean the difference between safe passage and a tow truck.
Shield country rapidly flattens and tapers off towards the plains and it isn’t long before the prairie breadbasket is glistening under the blue sky. Here deer are the prevalent road hazard, but their small size and stature limit a lot of the damage they can do to a vehicle. Transports don’t even blink a headlight when they encounter a deer.
Once out on the bald prairie I find the landscape to be extremely boring, but I’m always quick to discover places to stop. Granny’s Saskatoonberry pie with a scoop is a welcome relief following mile after endless mile of wheat, and Shae’s Ice Cream Oasis is the perfect place for taking a well-deserved break.
Unfortunately, on my most recent early morning drive-by it was closed.
Update August 2010: Shea’s has been closed. No idea why. It was a great little place to stop, enjoy some ice cream and talk to the owner about farming.