West. Day 24.
- patti brehler
- Apr 29, 2021
- 2 min read
Updated: Apr 30, 2021
July 2, 2016
Jordan to Sand Springs, Montana
Original Facebook post:
POSTCARD FROM THE ROAD 7/2/16, posted 7/3/16
Everything is foreign. The low grassy hills are dotted with pale, pine-green scrub bushes. What looks like boulders nestled among them, moves. Dusty grey sheep are grazing, lambs ba-a-a-a in the distance. Unfamiliar birds chit-chat in the brush, some fly low across the road in dizzying patterns.
One little grey bird races ahead of me on a downhill at 29 mph. When the road rises and my speed drops, the bird slows as well. By the time I enlist my granny gear the bird has landed on the white line ahead of me, as if waiting for the race to begin again.
Three sheep on a rise look up when I say, "Good morning!" I imagine how I must look to them in this muted landscape-a colorful, out-of-place rolling contraption speaking nonsense.
I stop to take in the vastness. The air today is calm and the sun is already warming my back. The smell of sweet grass pushes back the dry. There, a darker green hue twisting across the hills, is where water rushes when it storms. The road ahead slices straight to the heavens.
It is so quiet I hear a little breeze tickle me from the side.
But it is not so quiet after all. Insects voice their life stories. How can I understand? Why do you cry so, lamb? It is the same for us all. Live and die. Do what you do in between.
In the distance I hear the hum of car tires long before I spot the traffic in my mirror. I ride on, unconcerned that I've lost momentum. It might take me all day to ride 33 miles to Sand Springs and that is just fine.
A short ride to Sand Springs with a long afternoon rest was just what I needed. Even if the day's roadkill was an owl (missing its head).
The only thing in this "town" (besides two houses) was an old, one-pump gas station/store/post office with free bicycle camping out back.
I hung out with Sandy ("Sandy from Sand Springs" as she called herself) in the store and treated myself to a frozen pizza dinner. Sandy was the proprietor and postmaster of this friendly establishment. She and her husband also own a "small" 3100-acre cattle farm with 250 head.
"Out here it takes more than 10 acres of grazing land to support one steer," she said.
When she closed for the day, Sandy said, "I'm closed tomorrow, but the restrooms will be open. If it storms tonight feel free to use the covered porch next door."
I took a selfie of us before the doors locked.
Later, finding some shade from the hot setting sun, I sat on the store's stoop and watched a storm brew in the distance. Took a panorama photo with my phone and posted it to Facebook:
Check this sky out! Some distance south, and the weather radar shows it not moving my way. (Can you tell I also have WiFi and electricity to charge my phone?)
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