A Case of Untempered Enthusiasm

August 14, 2013

Little Missouri National Grassland (Buffalo Gap Campground)

What can I say about this glorious day? How can I convey the sweetness of the ride, the beauty of the scenery, and the excellence of my improvised route without sounding like a head-in-the-clouds lunatic. I can't. When I am done posting today's page you will know that I truly am certifiably delusional--a lost soul living in some kind of happy dreamland.

Here are the five reasons why my day was close to perfect:

I slept in today knowing that my ride would be less than twenty miles--short enough to be almost like a day off, yet still make a little progress toward home.
When I woke up, No Country for Old Men was on the USA Network which helped to kill some time in the motel. That Coen Brothers film just happens to be one of my favorite movies of the last five years.
The wind has shifted. After a week of constant headwinds, today's crosswind from the south seemed like a luxury. And when I turned northward for three miles, I felt like I was gliding across the earth effortlessly.
At the tiny town of Sentinel Butte, I made the decision to go off route onto County Road 1711 even though it meant I would eventually have to get back on the interstate in order to get to my planned destination. I had a hard time remembering if I've ever enjoyed any three miles of bike riding as I did on that stretch. The road twisted and turned among the buttes and the intoxicatingly pastoral grasslands. Plus, there was that tailwind. Only on a bike, I think, could anybody fully appreciate that setting.
The Buffalo Gap Campground turned out to be everything I hoped it would be. It was set among a few shade trees in a land of tall, gray-green grasses, low shrubs, and multi-colored buttes, mesas and monoliths. Only two of the 37 sites were occupied, so I had my privacy. I hiked to the top of one of the nearby buttes and the view was . . . something you'd have to see for yourself. Is it possible to see all the way to infinity? Later, I watched a couple of guys drive up in an old Volkswagen bus and they climbed the same butte I did. One of them threw a Frisbee to the north, with the wind, and it must have sailed more than 500 yards. At sunset the red clay buttes began to really assert themselves, and at night the star show was amazing. I could go on and on.

Don't let the man in the foreground detract from the beauty of the grasslands.

I'm not sure how SW WATER differs from regular water.

Don't let the dude with the forced smile detract from the bluff-top view.

Despite all the gushing of wonderful positivity that I wrote in the five points above, I just want to demonstrate that I do have some degree of critical judgement. I'll let you in on a little secret. I didn't like that I could hear the highway traffic from the campground.

Today's ride: 18 miles (29 km)
Total: 1,259 miles (2,026 km)

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