August 27, 2017
HILL CITY, SOUTH DAKOTA: Images & Haikus From The Trail
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Emergency camp
The morning after the storm
A wonderful sleep
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A well-designed gate
Brilliant use of weights and chains
To keep out the cows
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One of four tunnels
Turned on bike lights to go through
Unnecessary!
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Unnecessary
Because the light at the end
Is just yards ahead
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I have no knowledge
As to the name of this stream
But it is peaceful
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The Rock of Ages
That is truly what it's called
Didn't make that up
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The Mickelson Trail
Passing through some rocky walls
Another cool thing
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The sky, the mountains
The spaces, the view-blockers,
The clouds, the beauty
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A trail side shelter
A rest stop for a biker
Where are the swallows?
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One last photograph
Of the Black Hills' highest hills
Those hills are MOUNTAINS
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There is something I must address on this page that can't be done in the form of Japanese poetry. It involves (surprise!) a human interaction.
This story actually begins yesterday while I was watching the swallow family. I had Nicycle leaned up against the wall of the shelter. Apparently it was leaning in such a way that the front gear shifter moved my chain between the two larger chain rings. When I heard the approaching thunder, I got on my bike and put all my weight on the pedals for a fast start. I heard a BANG!
"SHI-OOOT!" I said out loud. Nicycle continued to operate, but I could hear and feel a clicking sensation every couple of revolutions of the pedals. I checked the derailleurs first and they seemed to be just fine. Then I found it: one of the links in my chain was seriously bent.
There wasn't much I could do about it with the thunder getting closer, so I rode on with a little more urgency to find a place to camp. The clicking was irritating, but I was pretty sure I could endure it until I reached a bike shop in Hill City.
I never gave my chain a second thought while I slept blissfully in my emergency tent site, but I was reminded of it as soon as I headed up the trail this morning. The clicking of the chain running through the derailleur got worse and worse.
At a small rest stop next to a bridge, I met another couple who were riding in the opposite direction. We had a short conversation and then, when I began to continue up the trail . . . the chain broke.
In all of my years of riding road bikes, mountain bikes, and touring bikes, I have never broken a chain. Even so, I carry a chain tool. You know, just in case I need one. I even watched a Youtube video on how to do a chain repair once. You know, JUST IN CASE. Now, faced with the actual situation, I was perplexed as to how to use my shiny, unused chain tool.
At that moment, I became the luckiest bike tourist of all time. The couple I was talking to--Kevin and Terry from Des Moines, Iowa--stepped right up. Kevin saw me fumbling with the chain tool, took it from me, and performed the repair as I watched dumbfoundedly. I possibly could have done it on my own, but it would have taken me an hour or two. Maybe longer.
And, like any good Iowa bike riders, they had beer with them. (We talked about our RAGBRAI experiences, so you get the picture.) They gave me a Spotted Cow Ale. As I said, I had just become the luckiest bike tourist of all time.
Today's ride: 38 miles (61 km)
Total: 562 miles (904 km)
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