Day 31. Gackle to Enderlin, 74 miles

Well I don’t even know what to say about today. I arrived in Enderlin at noon, having ridden my full 74 miles—there’s nothing between Gackle and Enderlin—in two stints of 32 and 42.

It didn’t start out seeming like that kind of day. I knew a stiff crosswind was the order of the day and that it would be hot and shadeless. ND, man. I slept badly, with anxiety dreams about leaving too late and not getting there, waking every hour. Since I was sleeping inside, I’d packed fully last night, and I was up at 4:45 and on the road before 5:30. I bid a casual farewell to Lisa and Rick, who were up and making breakfast, assuming we’d leapfrog each other on the road throughout the day.

Gackle was lovely at sunrise.

I’m learning, to my surprise, how much I love riding at and just after sunrise. I don’t love the feeling of needing to in order to beat the wind, but I love the cool and the quiet and the morning palette. It was Sunday at 5:30 a.m., and it was all empty roads, soft green hills, and gleaming sloughs.

The riding was lovely. The wind was already up, but not strong, and a crosswind rather than a direct headwind. I had been granted large mercies by the people of ND, and I accepted humbly and gratefully the small mercies of the land. Also, as Joyce acknowledged almost immediately after making the statement in eastern ND nine years ago, it is not true that crosswinds are as bad as headwinds.

I took my first break at 32 miles—why not ride while it felt good? I figured I’d stop for lunch after another 20, since it was barely 8:30.

More sloughs, more rolling, though I was definitely descending now. Both my mphs and the device told me that. I was moving between 1450 and 1350 feet, rather than the 1600-2k I’d been at for quite a while. And indeed sometime in the course of the day I hit a sign for the Continental Divide at 1420 feet.

I didn’t stop for a picture, and I’m fairly sure this is why.

I knew a thunderstorm was coming, had seen it on the radar, and at some point late morning it arrived, traveling on an insane tailwind that had me moving 19-28 mph, and at one point I hit 38. Now I know the device was lying when it said I did 40 before, because 38 was wild.

At first I thought I could outrace the storm, but hahaha. The tailwind, the storm, the joy of riding kept me going through the rain hitting (pause to put on rain jacket, don’t worry about shoes because I’m at a motel and can dry them); through the only major hill of day, a doozy and in the rain; through the end of the storm and the following muggy heat and disappearance of the tailwind, until there were only 16 miles to Enderlin at 10:30 or so.

I didn’t remember whether Enderlin was a real place, a place I could spend an afternoon waiting to be able to check in; I think Joyce and I arrived in the evening and had to make do for dinner with frozen microwave pizza from the motel. Or maybe candy? So I took it real slow in the heat, arriving at noon to find the Enderlin Inn looking pretty much the same as my memory of it.

The motel clerk was amused by my wish to make a reservation and told me I could just check in, for which I was quite grateful. And so I was installed in my motel room just after noon, with the whole day ahead of me. Figuring I’d just sweat more going into town for lunch and provisions, I decided to delay the shower and headed back out.

Enderlin is not charming.

After a mediocre BLT and fries, I made the rounds for supplies and headed back to the motel for a shower.

It was hot as heck, and I was feeling the effects of my lousy night’s sleep and active morning, so I turned on the AC and drowsed/dozed for a while. Later I spent some time mapping out Minnesota, where I aimed to land tomorrow, and then, after packing up, I hit the hay.