East. Day 47.
- patti brehler
- May 22, 2021
- 3 min read
July 25, 2016
Miles City to Glendive, Montana
Up with the sun to try and beat the heat, I hopped right onto I-94 east. Cattles guards still crossed the ramps. A fox slipped across in front of me, diving into a dry gulch as I dropped my chain into a harder gear. He paused, looked back at me, and spun in a circle as if he were chasing his tail. Perhaps he could not decipher what he saw.
The day was all about the ride and surviving the heat. As far as I could tell from my weather app, I would be facing east winds (read: HEADWINDS) for a while, with a high nearing 100 degrees. I was shooting for Glendive, more than 70 miles away. That meant crossing into North Dakota on the morrow.
We'd see.
There were hills, too. Hills I could climb, at least. The longer miles and heat were building. I had been feeling indestructible. Not so much this day. I needed to keep pedaling, rest when I found shade, and keep drinking. Been there before, I knew what to do.
One hot summer years ago, Lou and I (on our tandem) rode an event. A group of other cyclists grabbed onto our wheel. Lou kept saying, "I want to be submerged. I must be submerged."
I veered into a familiar park with a small beach. If the riders were weirded out by Lou's behavior, they didn't let on. They followed. And Lou's wish was granted.
I wanted Lou's wish.
The wish I got came in the form of a rest-stop oasis on I-94. Cold water, dripping from my wind charm bandana over my face, was a poor substitute for submersion.
As I prepared to return to battle the heat, two beaming young women stopped to ask where I was going. All was fair, I asked about them. One was from Seattle and the other from Vancouver.
"We're on a mission. Going to Minneapolis to see Prince's estate," the Vancouver girl said. The iconic singer died of an accidental overdose earlier that spring.
The Seattle girl added, "I just met her and I feel like I've known her all my life!"
Strangers, they met somewhere on the road and decided to join forces. Not just a mission, a pilgrimage.
The Prince fans passed me on the entrance ramp. One hung out the passenger window to take my photo. "Good luck baby girl!" she yelled.
Baby girl? I could be their mother!
From my B'76 journal:
7/25/76
Rest day here in Carbondale. Had a great ride in yesterday – split from the group and rode on the highways – made great time. Some people made me a vodka and soda at a rest area and another couple picked me up outside Murphysboro and took me into Carbondale for pizza and beer. Great. The rest of the group is really split up. Bob’s out with his friends, Brad with his folks, Jan and Glen with their friends, me and Big Dave were the only ones who made it here last night. Steve and the tandem stayed in Ava and Yuigi stayed in Cambell Hill. No one’s heard from Shirley and Colleen. Tom’s sick in St. Gen.
Met some independents in St. Genevieve’s who live two blocks from DC. Offered me a place to stay and a ride to the airport. Great.
Two letters from Mary! [My aunt.]
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