East. Day 50.
- patti brehler
- May 25, 2021
- 4 min read
July 28, 2016
Glen Ullin to Bismarck, North Dakota
On this day, my mother's 88th birthday, a morning thunderstorm left behind what felt like an all-day rain. Not my favorite thing, to start out in the rain. But I had to go, even if I was worried a bit about the wet, debris-filled shoulder of I-94 ahead. Prime conditions for a flat tire, if I was ever to get one. So far, this trip, no flats at all. Zero, zilch, nada.
Now don't go jinxing yourself.
The rain only lasted 26 miles. And no flats!
[Actually, I never had a flat tire on the Schwalbe Marathon tires I put on just before my ride--and none since, five years later. I sent a note to the company with a photo of me on my loaded Tour Easy. A customer service/tech support person emailed me back: "Thank you so much for the feedback and photo, we always love to hear the great experiences customers have on our tires! And Congratulations on completing such an extensive tour, twice!"]
Rain. Always a risk when you live outside. As I said, I hated starting out in rain but didn't mind as much getting caught. On a hot day, it can be a blessing. But protecting gear is important, hence the purchase of new waterproof Ortleib panniers. Thanks, Jim!
When Andy and I rode to Green Bay, Wisconsin I debated bringing my old Nikon along. The bag for it had a rain cover, but still. I emailed Rich Landers for advice. Surely an outdoor photojournalist would know what to do.
"Go ahead and bring it," he said. "You won't regret it." He was right and it survived.
This trip I debated again. A new waterproof and padded bag gave me the confidence to bring my updated Nikon. It's funny, though, how little I used it. No inspiration? Or too many excuses? I had to keep moving, the midday sun was no good, I was too tired at night, it was a pain to unpack.
What would Bunny say? Don't worry about making the miles, stop and photograph the sunflowers? I rationalized the experience was better lived "live." Besides, I was putting things into words instead.
My original Facebook post (with no photo):
Postcard from the road.July 28, 2016 Bismark, ND.
I don't know how I missed seeing Buddy Kahl's memorial west of Mandan, ND when I pedaled the opposite direction about a month ago now. (Maybe it was those lovely westerly winds.) But I spotted it today.
Life-sized metal silhouettes of a rancher on horseback, leading a riderless horse and driving cattle, stretched more than 1200 feet atop a high ridge on the south side of Old Highway 10.
Like the metal signs announcing ranch names, a huge sign stated, "In Memory of Buddy Kahl."
I must have repeated the name a hundred times in the next quarter-mile - that did the trick and I googled it when I got to camp.
Here's a link to his memorial page.
Learning about Buddy Kahl of course brought Dad to mind. Dad told everyone his gift to the world was his seven children. He was proud of what each of us contributed, in different ways.
Rick, the oldest, has three sons. A philosopher and storyteller, he retired from training and developing people. "You were the first person I made," was how I remembered his talk of me. Rick was a rock to Liz, his first wife, who died of breast cancer at the age of 40. Now he's married to Mary.
Sue, my darling Sue. "Who's my little lazybones?" she sang, swinging toddler-me from my armpits, my favorite game when she babysat. At age 25, I bought a house around the block from her and her husband, Mark, and her four sons and one daughter. Who needed kids when I could be the crazy aunt?
Cathy. An accomplished and prolific artist. She and her husband Charlie have a son and daughter. When Cathy was pregnant, I often drove her to her doctor's appointments. Her about-to-burst belly flushed her cheeks so, it was as if Mother Earth incarnate sat next to me.
Me. I'm the middle child. The only one to follow in my father's footsteps, working 17 years as a machinist in an aerospace manufacturing firm. I joke that I'm an evil stepmother to Andy's two sons and two daughters; I hope the love Andy and I display has been a positive influence.
Jim is a United Church of Christ minister now and an engineer in a past life. He and his wife, Laurel, have one daughter. Jim lived with me while in college and at the beginning of his career (long before Andy); we took turns making Sunday dinner. Laurel and I played soccer together. I brought her home after a game when it was his turn to cook. The rest, as they say...
Anne was once a grade school teacher. After rescuing herself and her three daughters from an abusive husband, she put herself through grad school and is now a professional counselor.
Baby brother Joe was a cop. He and his wife, Karen, have a son and two daughters. Joe was sad Dad didn't get to see him retire.
On Mom's birthday in 2015, Dad was ten days from dying. He knew how much she loved the slots, so I sat with him while she took their community bus to the casino.
This day a year later, everyone (except me) would be having dinner with Mom at our favorite pizza place--Loui's Pizza in Hazel Park, Michigan. Happy birthday, Momma!
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