It Starts.

6:50am. Boom, Boom, Boom…”Mike wake the fuck up!” Groggy and slow, I wake from a deep sleep and notice the headlights of Anne’s (Chad's girlfriend) car in my driveway. My alarm is screaming. I was supposed to be up 50 minutes earlier. I peak my head out the door and yell; “two minutes”. Converting that to my time scale ramps that estimate up to 15 minutes. In the car we hit the road and make it the airport in plenty of time.

At 33,000ft my bowel contractions are 9 mins apart and I believe I was about 5 centimeters dilated. It was time for delivery. However, it was also time to serve, among other items, complimentary soda at 7:50 in the morning. I never understood this. Once people are outside their respective routines they find it easy to except that which they would find ridiculous at that hour. Nonetheless, I made it to the lavatory just as I was crowning. Phew.

Flew into Denver to get the connecting flight to Rapid City, SD. Tiny plane. Tiny. Really short flight. So short that the pilot came on and said the following: “We have reached out cruising altitude and will begin our initial decent into Rapid City”

Pick up the rental minivan. Minivan have been convenient for trips past because we can keep the bikes locked up inside the car instead of on a bike rack. This trip’s model is a very average silver KIA. The rear seats fold down but the middle ones do not; a tough break for previous trips with all of our camping gear, cooler, bikes, etc. However, since we rented a cabin and a couple of random hotels, we have less stuff. No worries.

First step to the dry 79 super sunny weather feels like an angel on my shoulder wispering…”why do put up with the northeast humidity?” The weather is so perfect right now and is projected to be as such for the week.

First stop, Acme Bicycles where we had shipped our bikes to a week before. I had requested some service on my bike and for them to assemble it out of the transport bag. The guys working the shop were really cool and did a nice job on my bike. Although I have some leaking in the fork which I'm hoping is just the seals needing replacing. Hopefully they’ll hold for the trip. The has slacked a little in the year I’ve had on there and might start causing small burs to develop on the rear cassette. But we checked and it should be fine for the week. I took a picture of Chris who worked on my bike. He just moved to Rapid City 2 weeks ago and informs us that most of the trails we’re going to ridge are illegal. Whatever, dude.

Next stop lunch/early dinner at none other than Subway sandwich shop where we pass an employee leaving for the day echoing back to her collegues question of when she’s working next; “I’ll be here tomorrow and the next day and the next and the next and…” She may have continued this diatribe but we could not confirm as the door shut behind her. After dinner we had to take our vacation non-health attitudes to Dairy Queen where there were more flies behind the counter than employees. Two hot fudge sundees to go. The server was a nice puberty-stricken young man who while filling the sundaes the soft serve machine malfunctioned and shot a dime-sized blotch of vanilla ice cream to his upper lip. He amazingly had not noticed. It was my focal point for the remainder of my time in the facility. I feel for this young man in only a way that someone who stuggles with the softer sex can feel. Leaving the parking lot we ‘may’ have cut off a burly biker man who’s angst may have only increased after noticing the culprits were two men eating hot fundge sundess in a silver kia minivan…

Now on I-90 to I-85 north heading to North Dakota. Beautiful country. Lots of rolling hills and farms. 96 miles to the next gas station. Visibility is at least 20 miles. Funny to see a dozen mailboxes on the side of the road and the side road endlessly long; so long you can’t actually see the houses. It seems most of the fields have had their hay harvested for the winter feedings. I presume this to be the reason to have piles of hay everywhere. I don’t actually know this to be fact, just my best guess. The terrain is interesting. Kind of reminds me of Montana with its flat lands and sprinkles of rock out-croppings and larger mountains in the distance. I swear in a past life I was a rancher. I want to retire and drive a tracker around a farm or ride some horses and tend to my cattle. Chad just rolled his eyes. Whatever, guy.

We just passed our first oil derrick heading north to North Dakota. Apparently ND has the lowest state umemployment rate in the country because of the boom of the oil industry in recent years.

Pull into Watford, North Dakota. Staying at the Roosevelt Suites. Tony arrived ahead of us and is eating at the diner across the road and has the key. We meet up with him, hear our first “Tony-ism” of the trip 3 minutes into meeing up…”The suite is saweet for shizzle”. He is eating a garden salad and later tells us it was horrible. The suite is actually surprisingly sweet. Kind of a shock considering what the ‘downtown’ looks like. Some prep work on the bikes commences and Mike decides to head out to get some beers at the local gas station. But no beer so he has to hit up the City Bar. The following ensues:

Having just taken a shower and thrown on some shorts, a t-shirt and some sneakers, Mike effectively looks like a college freshman.

Mike enters and its like a record just skipped and everyone takes their eyes off the Nascar and turns to this odd looking boy. Mike approaches bar and is greeted by a friendly bartender.

M: “Hi. Do you sell beer here?”

BT: “Yeah. Can I see ID?”

Mike hands her ID while getting a glimpse in the corner of his eye a man slighly resembling Robert Deniro. This man also appeared in a picture with the bartender and what appeared to be their child pinned to the wall behind the bar.

BT (Looking at ID then as she speaks thrusting her hips forward, shoulders back, hands on small of her back and head cocked): “Daaaaammm you look good…you don’t look that old!”

Mike (stunned and slowly moving his eyes to Deniro): “Thank you”

At this point Deniro takes a long, long drag of his cigarette. Embers of the tip burning bright.

BT: “So what kind of beer to do you want?”

Mike: “Blue Moon”

Bartender returns to say there is no Blue Moon. Mike’s forehead begins to bead up.

Mike: “What else do you have?”

BT (smiling): “We have shit”

Mike: “Okay”

BT (inaudible): “How about…”

Mike: “Great”

Mike, standing soldier-like at the bar, has never focused so intently on a Nascar race in his entire life. Mike glances to Deniro who, through a cloud of second hand smoke, is pushing eye contact on to Mike.

BT (handing Mike an unrecognizable flavor of beer): “Here you go babe”

Mike: “Thanks”

Mike leaves quickly and outside makes his way past the motorcycles and mounts up on the KIA minivan. An attempt to ‘peel out’ is thwarted by the low gear ratio of the japanese-made 4-cylinder.