Day 35 – Saturday 7/2/22

Chamberlain, South Dakota to Pierre, South Dakota – 84.2 Miles

After 5 weeks of cycling and 2,319 total miles, I’ve come to rest tonight in Pierre, South Dakota. Ishmael and I are taking tomorrow off to reorganize, repair and plan for the next push towards the Pacific coast, about 1,600 miles away. There’s no particular reason why we couldn’t be heading out of town to a new destination in the morning, but the milestone of 35 days on the road and the 4th of July weekend seemed like an appropriate time to step away from what has become the daily routine.

On any high mileage day on the bike, it’s best to forget about the miles you’ve already done and pretend that what’s left to ride is all there was. By pausing for a day, I’ll change the focus to the five states remaining on the route and start thinking about how to handle them, instead of dwelling on what’s come before. I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made and the sights I’ve seen, but the goal is still 3 to 4 weeks away and something to get excited about.

Today’s ride was just about perfect. When I got out of bed, I had that all-over stiffness in my body that made me wonder how I’d be able to handle riding. Fortunately, that wasn’t the result of yesterday’s effort or the accumulated toll of the last 5 weeks, but more likely the result of not having been a teenager for over 45 years. Once I moved around and got Ishmael loaded up, I was good to go.

The goal today was Pierre, South Dakota. Pronounced “Peer” by the South Dakotans I asked, it was attractive as a destination, being the state capital and along the Missouri River. During the planning stages for the trip, I said I’d stay the night in any state capital on the route. Tallahassee, Florida and Jefferson City, Missouri would soon be joined by Pierre.

I made a last pass through Chamberlain on the way north out of town and found another old theater for the collection.

Just outside of Chamberlain was a long climb on Highway 50. The views of the town and the Missouri River were excellent.

In the other direction the bluffs along the river were clearly visible.

People lived along the river in houses of all descriptions.

Heading north to Fort Thompson, I met the first touring cyclists I’d seen since the Katy Trail in Missouri. George and his wife had come from Florence, Oregon and were cycling to Maryland to visit their son. We exchanged information about the road ahead, and George warned me about some problem dogs they had to deal with a few miles away on State Road 4. He was right.

As I passed a house, 3 large barking dogs ran diagonally toward me from the yard. With one dog the odds are favorable that you can either outrun it or sort of negotiate your way out of its territory, but I was outnumbered this time. Of course, the breed of dog makes a difference as well. Dachshunds, Poodles, Chihuahuas and Collies aren’t much of a threat, as are many other well-behaved breeds, but some are the canine equivalent of the “shoot first and ask questions later” vigilante.

I carry a can of “Halt” dog spray with me, which I’ve only had to use twice until now. Once for a pack of 7 free-range dogs and another for a large dog that was coming after me on a gravel road. Halt doesn’t hurt the dog, but it produces a sensation of heat that they don’t like. As the closest one came near the back right of Ishmael, I fired a quick burst. Game over. He stopped and his companions did too. The phrase “He didn’t know what hit him” is probably accurate, as he went from full attack mode to “WTF?” in a second. The remaining miles to Fort Thompson were uneventful.

Cattle congregate along the roadside, even though they have hundreds or thousands of acres on which to graze. I’ve seen many herds that are standing shoulder to shoulder in a small area as well. Either they want to see what people are up to or they’re social animals. Here’s a herd that came out to look at me.

I had two possible routes towards Pierre. One was longer and went through more hill country, while the other was flatter and had a supply stop. Both routes warned that services would be scarce along the way. I chose the flatter route, which had the benefit of being closer to the Missouri River as it neared Pierre. The supply stop in Stephan was important, as there were going to be miles afterwards with nothing available.

I was fortunate that there was a significant wind from the east going in my direction. Ishamel was cruising at up to 18-mph, and average speed was above average by about 3-mph.

The last 15 miles along the river were flat and scenic. In places people were waterskiing or cruising, while others just moored there and relaxed.

I got to the hotel about 4:30 and ate at an adjacent Mexican restaurant around 6:00, after taking a short walking tour of the area. Having a day off tomorrow changes what I need to do today, so there’s no pressure to get going early in the morning. I’ll be taking care of things that need attention and will spend some more time exploring the city. Within the next few days, I should be in Bismarck, North Dakota, and then on the way to Oregon.