Wednesday, June 29th
The North Dakota numberplate features a hardened bison standing in a barren country landscape. A thin strip of yellowing ground at the bottom on which the animal stands in the corner of, and a vast blue sky above. The numbers and letters sit on the sky part, and at the top where this darkens ‘Discover The Spirit’ is written in a script font. meant to capture this adventurous spirit. It’s stuck in my mind more than any other state plate I can think off, in fact I can’t remember any others as representative and visual as this.
I have to take back some of what I wrote yesterday as this second day in North Dakota has felt a lot more like the impression people gave me, and a little more like than idealised scene on the number plate. Minus the bison.
I’ve cycled on literally one road for this entire day, the route 46 again. It’s very straight and aside from a handful of hills, very flat too. Like the number plate, the view from your bike is vey similar. The road stretches out ahead at the bottom of your field of vision, then uninterrupted, endless blue sky fills the rest.
I suppose what has surprised me here is how green it is. I was expecting it to feel more sun scorched and burnt out, yellowing, but the whole place is like a well watered grassy field. In fact you could say it looks quite English.
The flatness makes you aware of the geometric nature of the road layouts, how these long straight roads divided up the state. It wasn’t hard to make the leap from someone’s pencil and ruler mapping it all out, to the tarmac you travelled along.
From the park I camped in I cycled nearly 40 miles straight. There were two towns a mile or so from the road I could have detoured to but I felt self-sufficent enough now just to keep going on to Gackle where I planned to spend the night and, if I kept my pace up, a large part of the afternoon. I was aiming for the hostel I’d been told about there – the Honey Hub, which promised a bed, wifi and a place to relax.
There really wasn’t much to stop for along the way, and even if you want to, finding an object close to the road to prop your bike against is a challenge in itself. There’s no parks or benches, no lay-bys or rest areas, of course no gas stations, diners, or cafes either.
At a junction 20 miles from Gackle I can to s squareish building painted a light shade of pink down a short gravel path from the side of the road.
I pulled in and made some coffee on the concrete step of this mysterious building. It had an arial at the back, and various meters and cables attached to the walls outside. Apparently it also had wifi, though my attempts to crack the password were sadly unsuccessful – I’ve had more or less no service whatsoever since leaving Fargo’s suburbs.
I sat in the shade drinking the coffee, feeling glad I’d decided to buy the stove in Chicago and give cooking another chance. The previous night I’d cooked macaroni and cheese (from a packet), oatmeal this morning, and coffee now. With it being possible to travel 60-100 miles now without services it really was an essential item. I think my mistake in Korea was buying a wood burning stove. A romantic idea but one which is really totally unpractical.
But it had been a process of learning, and lots of other pieces of my equipment had since been replaced or upgraded.
I continued the last 20 miles to Gackle . These shorter days can feel like more of a challenge in some ways since you find yourself counting the miles up rather than down. The last stretch was hilly too, which took me by surprise, but I arrive just after 2pm.
Gackle is a tiny little sleepy place. The kind of town with one main street called Main Street. One small gas station, one bar, an old cinema, a water tower overlooking the place with the town name in big uppercase letters. It has a population of 300 or so, but looking at it you wouldn’t know it was more than about 50.
I find the Honey Hub easily as there are signs for ‘cyclist housing’ leading the way from the main street. It’s run by a family who had noticed a lot of cyclists passing through the area. In a storm back in 2012 they offered one some shelter, and it just grew from there. Now they have a room at the back of their house with two beds, laundry, and a bathroom, plus a store room for bikes. All for free. It’s a little like finding an oasis in the desert. It’s named the Honey Hub as Jason, the owner, and his wife, are bee/honey farmers (not sure on the correct terminology here). His father created a range of sports nutrition products made with honey, called Honey Stinger.
They spend 9 months on the year in Northern California, but come to Gackle, along with their bees, in the summer months, when California is too hot.
There was one other cyclist when I arrived – Dick, a 62 year old guy from Boston heading back home from Portland. I take the second bed, and we speak for a bit. I shower, put some laundry on then out to dry, and head into the town to find food. The only place open is the bar which offers pizza and light beers. Four old guys are playing a card game in the corner.
Rain comes in the early evening but it brightens up again later, the rest of the week looks dry, I might even get a tail wind if i’m lucky. I re-check my route and make some revisions.
I take a short walk out in the evening after the rain clears up. The sun doesn’t set until close to 10 now. The wooden houses and old cars soak up the last of it, and the town is totally quiet – not in a ghostly way, it’s just the way it is.
Map
