Day 41 – Friday 7/8/22

Bismarck, North Dakota to Dickinson, North Dakota – 107.6 Miles

Traveling at 12 mph across Western states is a great way to practice patience. The distances between towns ensures that most of the time will be spent between them and learning to deal with that is a requirement for bicycle touring. Rather than talking about how many miles away something is, it might be better to use hours. On average, 25 miles takes about two hours to cover. Seeing a sign that a destination is 40 miles away means it’s likely you’re going to spend almost 4 hours getting there.

The good news is that the scenery is changing continually. Unlike people that do Spin classes, who put in the effort but never get anywhere, there’s always something to engage with on the road. It may be attractive, like landscapes and unique towns, or discouraging, when storms and terrain make things difficult, but handling it mentally is the key to making progress,

Today’s ride could have gone in a couple of directions. Once choice was to continue north to follow the Missouri River and the other was heading west from Bismarck. Both routes would have converged at a common point later, so the decision was which would give me the most benefit for the time put in? With the wide state of Montana left to travel, I chose to ride west to build up a cushion of time that could be used later. The Lewis and Clark route I’m on ended the section at Dickinson, North Dakota. Once there, a new map would direct me partially across Montana. Dickinson was 100 miles away from Bismarck, but there weren’t any logical stopping places in between. So, it was off to Dickinson.

It was easy to ride out of Bismarck, even on a Friday morning. The city streets are lined up north\south and east\west, which made my southwest heading easy to navigate. I crossed the Missouri River and rode into Mandan.

Mandan lies just across the Missouri from Bismarck but is a separate town. I was impressed with the look of it and Bismarck. If they weren’t cursed by extreme winter weather, I’d put them on my list of places to live. Mandan had an excellent bike path, the Longspur Trail, that got me most of the way through it.

I was on State Road 139 for the first 30 miles. The road was quiet, as most travelers were on nearby Interstate 94, and the scenery was attractive.

North Dakota allows bicycles to use the Interstate, which is a benefit if you’re looking for directness and speed over meandering. At New Salem I got on the entrance ramp and was immersed in high-velocity motorized travel instantly.

A couple of hours later I left I-94 to follow “Old Highway 10”. It’s the road that existed before the interstate was built and is primarily used by the people living in the small towns along it today. The decrease in traffic noise was welcome and the scenery improved. Hebron was the first point of interest. It calls itself the “Brick City”, as there’s a brick manufacturing plant located there. Population is about 800. Naturally, there was a stop for supplies.

As I was taking pictures, a bearded guy wearing a John Deere cap pulled up next to me on a riding lawn mower and asked if I was part of “the group”. Chad works for the city and was anticipating riders from an MS charity ride that were due in town the next day. When I explained that I was riding solo and from Florida, he was impressed, and we exchanged a fist bump. Then, we talked about the town and winter weather for a bit. Nice guy

After leaving Hebron it didn’t take long for the agricultural vibe to reassert itself.

Not too far from Hebron my Garmin GPS lost an hour. There were no signs along the road announcing a new time zone, so I turned around and rode back in the direction I’d just come from. The hour returned a short distance later. By circling around I could control time by exactly 60 minutes. It was nice to have all that power, but I needed to get to Dickinson.

Richardton was the next town up. An unusual thing about it was a road crew that seemed to be paving all the roads at once. Each street was blocked with a “Local traffic only” sign, and dust and dirt were everywhere. Whether the roads had never been paved, and they were just getting around to it or the crew got ambitious all of a sudden and decided to do the whole job over the weekend is unknown. As I glanced down a side street, I saw an impressive building a short distance away. It was the Assumption Abbey, founded in 1893.

It houses a community of monks existing in a very small town in North Dakota. As I was leaving after taking the picture, another touring cyclist came up from the opposite direction, headed towards the Abbey. Pete was a retired chef from Blaine, Washington. His bike was loaded with luggage on the back end and was also pulling a trailer with more gear on it. I whine about the stuff I have to carry because I might need it, but Pete obviously had different ideas about necessities.

His path to Richardton was amazing. He’d cycled down the Pacific coast to Tiajuana, then traveled to Arizona. From there he’d gone north and had spent the night in Dickinson, before riding to the Abbey, where camping was allowed on the grounds. His plan was to ride to Maine, then south to Key West. As a former chef, he hoped to get a job there, before heading back home to Washington. I’m very happy doing what I’m doing, but Pete has turned the knob to “11”. That’s a commitment of years, not months.

The last 20 miles into Dickinson felt, as usual, like the longest of the day. The wind was in the right direction, but the desire to finish had changed my focus from that of a sightseer to a destination-oriented rider. Still, I stifled that urge long enough to take a few more pictures.

I got to the hotel after 9 hours of pedaling. It was a productive day and not that hard of an effort was required. Now that I’m at the western end of North Dakota, Montana lies ahead as the biggest state I’ll travel through on this journey. I expect some long days to come, but the results so far have been good, and look forward to seeing what’s next.