Day 21 – Chirpin’ with the prairie dogs.
Rapid City, SD to Kadoka, SD
Today was a fun day, more fun than a century should be. It’s funny because it still feels like a century, it’s just that a century feels different now. We’ve done so many that a day shorter than 90 miles is a treat. We got out this morning to a good truck breakfast outside of the Mining school. Once out of town I remember asking Ben, are those gray clouds behind us or is that just my glasses? Well sorry Ben, they really were gray clouds! By our first waterstop at 20 miles we had picked up a pretty hefty side wind. And we could see the rain coming down to our north. Guess this taught us not to trust the weatherman. Lightning began to flash in the distance, sky to ground, and you could just feel the excitement in the air. I loved it. There’s nothing better than a good thunderstorm, and this was at a distance far enough to enjoy without danger. All that we felt was a little bit of rain and some heavy winds.
As the storm blew by us to the north, we were left with some persistently strong head and cross-headwinds. The sky was clearing up as we entered into the badlands. Prairie dogs were everywhere, standing on their hind legs and chirping at us as we invaded their grounds. It sounded like Ben’s squeaky pedal again. It was slooooow going against that wind, but I was feeling pretty good and it was good company the four of us (Sean, Ben, Ane, and I). We traveled the same road that Ane and I had been on two years earlier on the way to Colorado, and I remember it distinctly, but it was a radically different experience on the bike. Really it was amazing to experience it from the bike’s vantage point, pace, and nearness. In a car you are so clearly separated from your surroundings, I don’t care what kind of car you are in. On a bike, you’re a part of it. You feel every little bump and seam in the road, you appreciate every bend and curve, and you get to savor the view longer and it slowly transforms. I love it.
We took our time to climb up to some of the peaks for views, and took a million pictures. Not to mention of course we took a million more at the world’s largest prairie dog on the way out. The last twenty mile stretch was long but pleasant with the company. We took our time and enjoyed the scenery. I can’t emphasize enough how that makes all of the difference. And to have Ane there. What a summer.
Today was a fun day, more fun than a century should be. It’s funny because it still feels like a century, it’s just that a century feels different now. We’ve done so many that a day shorter than 90 miles is a treat. We got out this morning to a good truck breakfast outside of the Mining school. Once out of town I remember asking Ben, are those gray clouds behind us or is that just my glasses? Well sorry Ben, they really were gray clouds! By our first waterstop at 20 miles we had picked up a pretty hefty side wind. And we could see the rain coming down to our north. Guess this taught us not to trust the weatherman. Lightning began to flash in the distance, sky to ground, and you could just feel the excitement in the air. I loved it. There’s nothing better than a good thunderstorm, and this was at a distance far enough to enjoy without danger. All that we felt was a little bit of rain and some heavy winds.
As the storm blew by us to the north, we were left with some persistently strong head and cross-headwinds. The sky was clearing up as we entered into the badlands. Prairie dogs were everywhere, standing on their hind legs and chirping at us as we invaded their grounds. It sounded like Ben’s squeaky pedal again. It was slooooow going against that wind, but I was feeling pretty good and it was good company the four of us (Sean, Ben, Ane, and I). We traveled the same road that Ane and I had been on two years earlier on the way to Colorado, and I remember it distinctly, but it was a radically different experience on the bike. Really it was amazing to experience it from the bike’s vantage point, pace, and nearness. In a car you are so clearly separated from your surroundings, I don’t care what kind of car you are in. On a bike, you’re a part of it. You feel every little bump and seam in the road, you appreciate every bend and curve, and you get to savor the view longer and it slowly transforms. I love it.
We took our time to climb up to some of the peaks for views, and took a million pictures. Not to mention of course we took a million more at the world’s largest prairie dog on the way out. The last twenty mile stretch was long but pleasant with the company. We took our time and enjoyed the scenery. I can’t emphasize enough how that makes all of the difference. And to have Ane there. What a summer.
posted by elizabeth at 11:12 PM
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