I’ve really been missing my nice teakettle

July 13, 2016

Day Forty-Three: Sturgis, South Dakota to Howes, South Dakota

Traffic was a little busy leaving Sturgis this morning, but nothing crazy. It’s hard to believe that such a small town (population under 7,000) would be able to absorb hundreds of thousands of motorcyclists next month during the famous rally. We observed one clue as to how they might accomplish this: Row after row of small cabins, separated by a few feet, on a gravel lot just out of town. We’d also heard that people miles from Sturgis rented out spare rooms and entire houses each year. Attending such an event is not my idea of fun, but then I’m certain that the vast majority of my fellow Americans don’t think riding a heavy bicycle for thousands of miles is fun either.

Several miles outside of Sturgis, we entered Bear Butte Valley, an otherwise empty landscape dominated by the view of Bear Butte. I assume Bear Butte is the last enormous geological feature we’ll see on this trip, as we move into the flatter upper plains.

The only exciting thing that happened during this part of the ride was the fall of a full Gatorade bottle, strapped onto my rear rack, into my chain. I can report that a heavy bottle of sports drink landing on one’s chain is startling.

The daily routine of putting on sunscreen, eating food from gas stations, figuring out the next day’s route, and finding a new place to sleep each night had recently begun to wear on me, and this morning I was fantasizing about the most mundane aspects imaginable of our unexciting domestic life. For example: I’ve really been missing my nice teakettle that I use each morning to pour the boiling water into my bowl of oatmeal. And I miss putting on a clean cotton shirt, ironed with my high-quality Rowenta iron. When I mentioned these things to Joy, she pointed out that I was often bored at home, and craved an adventure such as this bike tour. “You’re never satisfied”, she said.

Not true: I was very, very satisfied by that pizza I had for lunch in Rochford yesterday.

We were riding on a fairly empty state highway, with amazingly long sight lines. We found a rare tree along the side of the road, and stopped for a while. Joy pointed to a car behind us in the distance, and we watched it for minutes as it slowly got closer, and *finally* passed us. While this was happening, Joy ate one of the last of the now-hated Payday bars we’ve been carrying for weeks. We ate so many of these back in the early days of this tour that we have become thoroughly sick of them. It takes so ver long to chew and swallow them, and I just can’t be bothered with that anymore. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to enjoy them again. Until then, I’m carrying the last of the Payday bars in my handlebar bag, in case the food situation becomes truly desperate.

The only thing Google Maps showed on our route for many, many miles was a ranch supply store, and for most of the morning I speculated about what this store might include — Maybe there’ll be a pop machine! There might be a public restroom with flush toilets! During all this, Joy urged me not to raise our (my) hopes too high, so I was triumphant when I rode ahead to find that the ranch supply store had expanded to include a cafe, post office, and barber shop, none of which Google Maps knew about.

We had lunch at the cafe, and I had a pretty good pecan pie with ice cream for dessert. We had no idea where we were staying tonight, so I was fortifying myself. We had heard there was a store at a crossroads called Howes, which might have some sort of campground, and there might be a couple of churches along the route where we could “stealth” camp.

Later we pulled off at the tiny community of White Owl, and visited the post office, which was housed in a store with a very dusty, sparse selection of groceries. The visit to the store turned sour when the old lady running the place proved to be a racist, after she warned us not to stay at Howes because of the “dirty” Indians on the nearby reservation. She told us it would be “cleaner” to camp behind the old Catholic church a few miles before Howes. “You’ll be happier there.” Then, as we left, she warned us to be careful of “protesters” who might block the road. I assume she was talking about the “Black Lives Matter” protesters she had seen while watching cable news, or something. This idea was so ridiculous that I laughed, while her son was visibly embarrassed.

As we were leaving White Owl, we talked to a nice local guy for a while. Of course, the subject of the bicycle tires arose, specifically tread wear, which Joy explained while I gazed off into the distance.

We had a tailwind to Howes, which Wikipedia describes as an “unincorporated community”, and the center of which is the busy general store. We walked in and were greeted by the friendly owner, Dawn, and her daughter, Alicia. We weren’t sure where we were staying tonight, but as we sat at the table in the air-conditioned store, talking to Dawn and Alicia, watching the many customers (most from the nearby reservation, I assume) come in and out, and purchasing and eating snacks late into the afternoon, we decided we weren’t riding anywhere else today. I checked out the campground behind the store, which was fine, although perhaps a little close to the highway for a light sleeper like me, so Dawn rented us a tiny cabin for the same (low) price as camping. A great deal!

We cleaned up with a jug of water purchased at the store, visited the apparently very popular outhouses nearby, and then retired to our small cabin, which contained only one twin bed. Joy generously offered to put her sleeping bag on the floor, because I’m an old man now and have trouble sleeping in less-than-optimum conditions, and we went to sleep at dusk.

Today's ride: 80 miles (129 km)
Total: 1,739 miles (2,799 km)

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