Day 38 – Tuesday 7/5/22

Gettysburg, South Dakota to Mobridge, South Dakota – 60.5 Miles

Time and distance are variables I’m always working with or against each day. When I chose a destination, it’s generally because 1) It’s within a range I feel comfortable riding given the conditions, 2) It has food and lodging available and 3) It sets me up for the next day’s ride.

The choice this morning was between Mobridge or Pollock. Mobridge was closer and had more services to offer, but Pollock would have positioned me nicely for a shot at Bismarck a day earlier. When I checked the weather report this morning, the forecast was for scattered thunderstorms around Pollock about the time I’d be moving into the area from the south. Mobridge also had storms predicted, but the chances were in the 25% range, which seemed acceptable. So, Mobridge it was.

I had a slow start today because of another tire issue. I’d just rotated the tires and installed new tubes in Pierre, but the front tire was soft, which cost me about half-an-hour to fix. As I left town, the wind was strong from the ESE. Combined with the slight downhill heading west, I was moving along quickly with little effort.

Six miles out, I turned right on Highway 83 and started north towards Akaska. A road sign said “Akaska 16”, so adding that to the miles I’d travelled, I expected to see the town when my GPS hit 22 miles. The road was perfectly paved, and everything was going well.

As I continued north, the wind was increasing from the ESE, while the clouds were getting darker ahead. I was hoping this might be one of those days when it looks like it’s going to rain but doesn’t.

Shortly after the picture below was taken, rain started falling. Nothing intense but given the look of the clouds and increasing wind, I decided to put on my raingear.

The strong crosswind was causing Ishmael to drift towards the traffic occasionally. I started making plans to head for shelter in Akaska, which should have been close by, but at mile 22 there was no sign of the town. Looking at the cues on the map I could tell that I was still several miles from the turnoff, but felt I had a good chance to make it.

As I was working out the possibilities, my phone went off with the sound it makes when something urgent needs attention. I didn’t even have to pull it out of my jersey, as a voice repeated this message:

By now I’d reached the turn for Akaska, but it was 3 miles away in the direction of the approaching storm. Lightning was coming down and the wind was increasing by the minute. It didn’t make sense to ride into the storm and there was nowhere else to go, so I bailed out and slid down an embankment on the south side of the road. Tall grass was all around, but I found a clear spot and reclined against the slope as the clouds closed in. Fortunately, I’d bought a $2 “Emergency Poncho” as a backup, and it was a good investment. I tore the seams and stretched it out enough to cover me completely before the rain hit.

I hunkered down for about 1 1/2 hours. When I thought the storm was almost over, a lightning bolt or more rain would prove me wrong. Eventually, after not hearing thunder for 15 minutes, I decided that I’d better get moving again. The wind was still strong, but the rain had slowed down enough to make it possible to ride safely.

The first several miles were tough. I’d cooled down while lying in the ditch, so it took some time to warm up. There was still a crosswind and light rain, but things started to improve. The sky was clearing to the west as the storm moved east.

I decided to stick to the highway after the storm. The map route was going to put me on some gravel back roads, which now would have been gravel and mud roads. I wasn’t interested.

Selby was the next town up, with a population of around 600. After I pulled up to a convenience store, another cyclist on a mountain bike showed up minutes later. He was a young guy, and his accent told me that he wasn’t originally from South Dakota. Jake was from New Jersey and had moved to South Dakota four years ago. His grandfather lived in the area and Jake was attracted by the low cost of housing and the chance to start his own business as a carpenter, as that’s what he’d done in New Jersey. He said it was a big cultural shift for him, but he and his wife were now solid South Dakotans.

As I left Selby things started looking great. The strong wind from the ESE was continuing, and I was traveling west. I didn’t have to pedal for a couple of miles, as the wind pushed me along, and even up some minor hills.

Off in the distance was a shape I couldn’t identify. At first, I thought it was a large animal, and then a person walking. It turned out to be Cedric, a student from Oregon State, who was riding from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine. He’d done 150 miles the day before, but admitted he was so beat up from the effort that he was only going from Mobridge to Selby today, 15 miles. He gave me some good information about what’s ahead, and we wished each other safe travels as we rode off in opposite directions.

My room for the night is at the East Side Motel on the main street through Mobridge. Sometimes people overlook smaller hotels because the chains are so familiar. But I’ve had some excellent experiences in small hotels and some “this isn’t worth it” nights at name brand ones.

After getting cleaned up, I walked around town. I wanted to see the Missouri River first, which was about a mile away.

People like cowboys, rodeos and fishing here. This statue tells the tale.

Downtown Mobridge was closed, except for a nice grocery store.

Another Mexican restaurant was the meal choice tonight. Great food and service. Tomorrow I will likely be pedaling to Linton, North Dakota, but that will depend on the weather. The map would have me riding north from here with no services and only campgrounds as an option, which makes little sense. I’ll improvise the route to give me some flexibility, as I hope to be in Bismarck on Thursday.