July 16, 2016
"Six F*CKING peaches!"
Day Forty-Six: Pierre, South Dakota to Gettysburg, South Dakota
After breakfast at the Hitching Horse Inn, we made our way out of Pierre. It was an easy ride out of town, with light traffic and even an unexpected bike path past the Walmart. One of the things we’ve noticed about South Dakota is that literally all the grass is mowed and rolled — so there are rolls of hay along the sides of highways, county roads, in medians, etc. As we left town this morning we rode past the small airport, which of course was full of hay rolls. “They even bale hay at the airport!” Joy said.
Last night I had attempted to map out a mostly-gravel route for today, having grown weary the last few days of riding on the shoulder of the same highway, but a few miles after getting out of town that route fell apart, when one of the roads promised by Google Maps did not exist. I’ve got to quit relying on Google Maps, which lately has been about as reliable as the advice of local people, who of course can’t relate to the concept of traveling by bike. After riding the wrong direction (south) for a while, we found another gravel road that seemed like it might work, and continued.
Around this time I announced that I was probably finished with bike touring for good after we finished this one, because I was too old, the routine was increasingly difficult for a homebody like me, etc. etc. Joy, who has heard all this before, rolled her eyes and predicted that by November I would be talking about doing it again. I really do think this is the last LONG tour I’ll ever do, however.
We gave up on the gravel roads for a while, and got on the highway, which had a good shoulder. Pavement never feels smoother than after miles of rough gravel.
Where our highway crossed with another one, we stopped at a small truck stop, the first business we’d seen since leaving Pierre, and had an early lunch: Joy had some semi-healthy sandwich, while I had fried chicken tenders and french fries. One of the things I’m growing weary of is all this gas station food, which, along with the snacks we carry, has been my diet for much of the last several weeks. Recently Joy said she was craving rotisserie chicken and peas. The peas sounded good even to a non-vegetable-guy like me, which surely means I’ve been on the road too long.
After leaving the truck stop, we continued on the highway, where traffic was initially light, although it picked up as we got closer to the next town, Onida. We stuck with the highway because a couple of the county roads on the map didn’t exist anyway; apparently they had been plowed and planted with corn. It’s amusing how so many of the high-tech tools like GPS and Google Maps are based on data that was apparently last updated in the 1950’s or something. More annoying than amusing, actually.
As we entered Onida (population 658), we paused outside a grocery store just as a lady exited. “BIKERS!” she shouted. I was in one of my relatively rare moods to discuss our trip (rare these days, anyway), so I told the woman where we’d started, where we were headed, etc., and she responded with a phrase I’ve never heard before, which is possibly a South Dakota thing: “HOLY BUCKETS!”
The ultra-perky woman was named Margie, and we spent some time talking to her. Her question about what we ate, and my response (“Junk”), led to her insisting that we take some of the peaches she had just purchased at the grocery store. I could tell that Joy was not thrilled with the idea of carrying heavy fruit, especially once Margie told us these were “canning” peaches, and weren’t quite ripe yet, but for some reason I couldn’t refuse them. In fact, although it initially appeared that she was going to hand us just a couple of peaches, as she rummaged through her grocery bags I found myself telling her that I mostly subsisted on “Grandma’s” brand cookies, the ingredients of which are preservatives and chemicals that no actual grandma has ever heard of, and this seemed to encourage her to give us even MORE peaches.
Joy was displeased: “Six [CENSORED] peaches!”
We said goodbye to Margie after accepting the peaches (which initially went into Joy’s backpack, before she ordered me to put four of them in my jersey pockets), but not before responding to her request to guess her age, which of course is always dangerous. “I’m older than you!” she said, so I tentatively guessed “Uh, 51?”
She was sixty.
After leaving Onida we got on a nice gravel section for a while, then stopped at a small cemetery. I left Joy there to ride a mile off our route to check out the small village of “Agar”, where I was surprised to find a bar, bought a couple of Diet Cokes there, and then rode back to find that Joy had escaped the heat and wind by moving into the tiny chapel on the cemetery grounds.
We hung out inside the chapel for a while, and then got back on the gravel road, after disposing of the unfortunately inedible peaches. It was hot now, so we stopped under one of the rare shade trees for ten or fifteen minutes. The Gatorade in my bottle had turned disgustingly hot, and reminded me of “spice cider” which can be pleasing on a cold December day, but isn’t something you want to chug in July when it’s 90F. I described the hot Gatorade to Joy as “Nastygade”, which doesn’t even make sense, I suppose. Joy was hot and tired, and wasn’t in a talkative mood, even when I tried to start a conversation with “Some crazy shit has gone down on this trip!” She reminded me that we’ve actually witnessed nothing “crazy”, except, possibly, that crazy old guy JC early in New Mexico.
We got on pavement for the last miles to Gettysburg (population 1,201), whose slogan is “Where the Battle Wasn’t”. Groan. We got a reasonably-priced motel room (finally!) at an old mom-and-pop place, and then I did laundry while Joy walked across the street to a grocery store and bought microwave food that we ate in our room. We were too tired to investigate any other dining options in town.
As has become our habit, we retired early, while it was still light outside. We hadn’t made a firm decision about where to go tomorrow, and thought we’d wait and see which way the wind was blowing.
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Today's ride: 67 miles (108 km)
Total: 1,905 miles (3,066 km)
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Well, since I discovered this journal via a link in your current "Vibes" journal, this prophecy was a bit premature. Which is a good thing for those of us enjoying your Vibes adventure.
4 months ago