Ride For Fatherhood

Due to various issues both at home and on the road, we have decided to
call off the rest of our trip for this year. We will be riding into
Rapid City today and leaving for Tallahassee on Greyhound tomorrow
morning.

When we resume the trip (hopefully in two years if my rich uncle can
hurry up and croak - LOL), we will either re-start from the East Coast
or Pierre, SD due to the several rides we received from there to Rapid
City in an effort to try to get Stefan to Billings, MT in time for his
drill.

My apologies to our sponsors who believed in us and helped us with money
and equipment. I do believe that we made a difference; between talking
to several hundred people and the exposure we gave to the problems and
solutions of fatherlessness in various TV and newspaper articles, I know
that someone somewhere got a clue. I know of at least two people
personally who had a change of heart over blocking access to the other
parent and their children should benefit from that. We will hang onto
the gear and will hopefully use it for it’s intended purpose in two
years.

Thank you to the many Warmshowers, Couchsurfing, and other hosts and
other people who have made a difference by helping us on our journey. No
only do I feel that we made a difference in the lives of at least a few
children, but we have been changed ourselves by the many wonderful
people we have met on the road. I had no idea so many people trusted
others so much; I had always thought I thought I was odd for that.

I will complete the photo gallery through our unloaded ride over Needles
and Iron Mountain Highways as soon as I have time.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Riding for kids and dads
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org

We woke up in Wall and figred that there was no way we would make hte
70+ miles to keystone in the 20kt headwinds we were experiencing, so we
decided to see about getting a ride. The first person Stefan asked was
aguy in a big diesel dually pulling a large gooseneck flatbed and going
to Custer. It didn’t tae long for us to get our bikes tied down on the
trailer and off we went. he was a nice young guy who had just helped a
friend move to Eastern SD and was headed back home to Custer. He dropped
us off about 2 miles from our destination and we rode on in to Battle
Creek Horse camp.

Dwight was himself a former single dad who set us up with a very nice
cabin with a view of Elkhorn Mountain and an antique steam engine
running through the backyard twice a day. If you ever make it this way,
check them out at http://www.bchorsecamp.com - you don’t even need to
ride horses, it is just a cool place to be.

The next morning, Dwight needed some help baling hay so Stefan and I
loaded 100 bales and stored them in his barn after which we drove to Mt
Rushmore and had Pizza. We figured that it was too late to leave that
day so we planned an early departure for the following day. Dwight and I
worked on our route and decided that we would ride up Iron Mountain
Highway, take Playhouse Rd over to Needles Highway and then go over
needles to Sylvan lake and get a campsite in Hill city. We figured that
would give us the most scenery without a lot of backtracking or going
too far out of the way.

Saturday morning we were about to take off when Dwight showed up. I had
been looking for camping in Hill city and Battle Creek had always come
up near the top of the list; I realized that we would end up only 10
miles away and asked if we could just leave our bags behind and ride the
loop unloaded. Stefan then had a brainstorm and we invited their 16yo
ranchhand Ian (whom he had become good friends with) to ride with us
since he had never done any riding like this before.

We drove into Hill City to rent Ian a hybrid and realized that we should
have brought our bikes as we had decided to ride the aforementioned loop
backwards and could have started in Hill City, saving some time.
Returning to the camp, we loaded up and headed back to Hill city. From
there, we headed South and caught Sylvan Lake Rd to Needles Highway.
That was when the climbing began.

In the next few miles, we climbed over a thousand feet up to Sylvan
Lake. At first it was just winding road, but as we neared the top, the
switchbacks began. having never ridden these before, I quickly learned
to swing wide on the right turns to avoid the really steep parts in the
inside corners. I had to stop several times for rest and my legs felt
pretty rubbery by the time we made it up, but we made it. Reaching the
ranger station, we were waved on through without paying; I guess they
figured we had already paid on the climb up. the climb continued a short
while more and then leveled out into a series of rollers. one one brief
downhill, I almost hit a large velvet-antlered deer. he just stood there
on the edge of the road staring at me like I was some kind of space
alien. By the time I got slowed down and returned to take a picture, he
had moved down the slope a little way, but would still stand and stare
at me; he obviously wasn’t too impressed. Every so often, there was a
narrow 1-lane tunnel that everyone had to take turns going through with
saying “honk horn before entering”. Not having a horn, Stefan rang his
bell like mad and I simply bellowed “COMING THROUGH, MAKE A HOLE!”.
Reaching the top, we found numerous tall granite towers, including one
with a hole through it looking like the eye of a needle. People were
climbing and rappelling on them and the view was simply spectacular; I
don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.

Coasting down the other side, I stopped every so often to take pictures
of the hundreds of granite spires. It definitely looked other-worldly
and extremely gorgeous. We finally started getting back into the
forested areas and I gave up on taking pictures and concentrated on
controlling my bike.

We had been told that Playhouse road was gravel, so were pleasantly
surprised to find it covered in a coat of chip-seal and gravel. Although
there was some climbing, it was much more downhill than up, something I
despised because that meant there would be more climbing to get over
Iron Mountain.

Coming out on Iron Mountain Road, we turned left and the climbing began
again. This climb wasn’t as bad as the Needles Highway, but was more
punishing as our legs were already worn down. Nearing the top, we again
encountered switchbacks and chugged our way on over. On the way down, we
saw why the road was called Pigtails by the locals; many of the tunnels
and bridges looped back on themselves in 270-degree turns, going over or
under themselves. One such bridge went around a full 360-deg circle
almost one and
a half times. Like all good things, this road ended and we coasted into
Keystone, a definite tourist-central town. The kids had said they wanted
to hit Dairy Queen for ice cream, but we ended up grabbing a couple of
half-gallons and taking them back to the camp instead.

In the process of riding up all the hills, I’ve had plenty of time to
think about a lot of things…Bonnie’s lost job, the truck that we were
planning to sell to finance the rest of the ride (the tranny blew up the
other day), the fact that only one of my kids is left on this
“cross-country bike ride of a father and his kids” while Bonnie deals
with the rest of them at home. More in the next journal post.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

We woke up to a beautiful blazing sunrise over the cliffs of the
Badlands and I managed to snap a couple of pictures of it before the sun
came up completely and ruined the colors with it’s brightness. Sitting
around the campstove, I invented a new breakfast food of trail mix
boiled in coffee; it was actually quite good.

Heading into Cedar Pass, we stopped at the lodge for an “Indian taco”,
not because I believe that it was authentic Native American fare, but it
simply sounded good - buffalo meat, fry bread etc. While the gift shop
did have some authentic native-made crafts on sale, much of what I saw
was made in Taiwan or Vietnam or the like. I have mixed feelings about
the commercialization of Native American culture. part of me is saddened
to see a once-proud culture reduced to a tourist attraction or sports
mascot, but I also recognize that they need the money. I just see a lot
of that money going other places than the tribes.

We got on the road and hit our first climb soon afterward, about 400 ft.
The scenery was best described as spectacular and although the cliffs
were only a few hundred feet high, they looked much more rugged.
Incidentally, the name Badlands refers to the translation of an Indian
Phrase meaning “Bad land to travel” and that it sure was. The Badlands
wall is the oddly and beautifully eroded side of the White River valley.
Over millions of years, rainwater has transformed the landscape into
something resembling a foreign planet. It is about 50 miles long and
only accessible in a few places called “passes”. Understand that in the
old days, a pass was not a 4-lane highway through the cliffs, but any
place that a mule, horse, or wagon could be coaxed, pried, pulled,
pushed or somehow coerced to go through, so some of the road passes are
similarly steep. We didn’t have to walk any although I made liberal use
of the curb to rest as i could put my foot down without getting off the
seat….much easier to restart on an uphill if your butt is already on
the seat.

The loop road was over all too soon and we headed back into Wall. Stefan
had made plans for us to stay in Rapid City with friends of his from
Facebook but those fell through and we ended up getting our old room
back at the Welch Motel. I didn’t really want to spend the money but
they had been nice and kept our bags for us.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

I am trying an experiment using Stefan’s Centro phone and the folding
Bluetooth keyboard that we have carried all this way and have not used
yet….primarily because he is usually on his phone talking or texting
everyone between NY and SF with FL, OH, and a few other states thrown
in; he acts like such a teenager, I Just don’t get it.

For this loop out through the Badlands, we only packed what we needed
and left the rest in the back storage room of a motel in Wall, including
the laptop. So far, this isn’t working too badly but it does miss an
occasional character. It still seems to work much better than the ASUS
did and would make a potential replacement for the laptop except that I
can’t do pictures, routing with Delorme Topo, or work on the website
from here.

We left Wall and headed East on I-90 to Exit 116 where we visited an old
Minuteman ICBM ballistic missile silo. The ranger was just leaving after
conducting an open house, but he showed us how to get a cellphone tour
of the site. Looking at the missile, it was hard to imagine that such a
small device (56 ft long) could destroy a city; the bombs I saw as an
air Force cop at a SAC base were much smaller, but required a B-52 to
deliver them, Even more amazing was the fact that the destructive part
of this package - the 1.2 megaton warhead was only 600 lbs. There are
still 500 of these on alert, able to aunch within 5 minutes - perhaps a
nit longer since according to the terms of the START treaty, they are no
longer pre-targeted at the Soviet Union, but I bet that the launch math
for many targets such as Tehran and North Korea has already been
computed somewhere.

We finished our ride down I-90 with a strong wind out of the South until
we got to exit 131. It wasn’t too bad for my first time riding on an
interstate except for the wind. I took several pictures of Stefan
leaning to the right with his flag blowing almost horizontally to the
left. We experienced several motorist laying down on their horns as they
passed….not the friendly honk-honk that we’ve gotten on many of the
back roads, but the angry blast of someone who did not get the memo that
bikes are allowed on interstates in SD I don’t see what they have to be
upset about as we were much further from the travel lane and interfered
with them much less than if we were taking a lane on a lonely 2-lane.
I’ve had several people ask how we were getting across SD since we
couldn’t ride the interstate and were surprised to learn that not only
are there other roads in place, but we could ride the interstate here
and do if we need to but chose not to if we have a choice. They of
course assume that’s because it’s too dangerous, but I point out that it
has more to do with seeing less and it being more boring, although I
don’t think we’d miss much here as one section of plains or prairie dog
town starts to look like the next after a while.

Exit 131 wasn’t only the exit to go to Interior, but also the visitor
center for the Minuteman Historical site. We watched a video of the
security procedures around the sites, much of which was familiar from my
training as an Air Force SP, asked a few questions, and got our National
Parks Passport stamped before heading back out to battle the headwind
South to Interior. As we stepped outside the door, we were pleasantly
surprised to find the same strong wind blasting out of the North instead
of the South, giving us a tailwind the rest of the way.

The rolling prairie started giving way to large formations of sandstone
with multi-colored layers of sediment visible that carried over from one
large formation to the next. We had about a 500-ft drop coming into
Interior and found a place to camp at The Badlands Campground. Stefan
found a horse to talk to and I met a documentary photographer writing a
book on the economic issues of small farming towns. As we went to sleep,
the wind began to pick up and shake the picnic shelters we had our
hammocks slung in and lightning laced the sky, but not a drop of rain
fell.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

Some days just seem to start off on an odd note.

I woke up before Stefan (as usual) in Pierre city park and was busy
figuring out mileage and the halfway point when these 3 Indians
(American Indians, not Indian Indians) came by. Stefan had been so tired
the night before that he had decided to sleep on the ground rather than
sling his hammock. If I had been younger, I probably would have joined
him, but I prefer my creature comforts. As the 3 introduced themselves
to me, they noticed Stefan’s dogtags. He had started waking up about
that time and was faced with the 3 excited faces with the one old man
telling us how his son was an Airborne Ranger. I mentioned that now
Stefan could dance when they announced the warrior and veteran’s dances
(at powwows) and one guy said “Yeah, and he doesn’t even have to wear
jingle dress”. They all seemed to think that was hilarious and poor
Stefan, half-asleep with a dazed expression had no clue as to what they
were talking about.

We went to a small local restaurant that had been recommended by a cop
the night before as we enjoyed chatting about his job and why he chose
Pierre to live and work in. His answer, like 95% of the people I have
talked to, involved family ties and that was where he grew up. The
restaurant was owned by an Oriental couple who were pointing excitedly
at our bikes through the window and jabbering away. The farmers at the
counter were laughing their butts off. I thought they were laughing at
us and was feeling a bit self-conscious until I overheard one say “I
can’t believe they were so excited about those flags, they’re just
bikes”. Apparently, with our bikes hidden by the lower part of the
storefront, all they had seen were flags waving in the wind, and that
had set them wondering.

We next stopped at the DakotaMart to load up for an extended trek
through…..nothing. None of the towns (a generous use of the word) on
our route had any kinds of services guaranteed, so we prepared for a
week of total self-sufficiency except for water as we felt we could only
carry two gallons each without overloading the bikes too much. it took
us another hour to shop and pack and when we were done, I thought my
bike looked like a bull with the two large water jugs strapped below and
behind my rear panniers and in front of the SMV sign.

Incidentally, we have received many compliments on our visibility, both
day and night and absolutely no irate horn blasts (just many multiple
toots and waves) from motorists. I think they appreciate not being
surprised by us even though we have absolutely no issues taking an
entire lane for our own use if I feel that is the safest thing to do.
All your lane are belong to us (adapted from a line from an old Japanese
video game, not translated by a native English-speaker, “All your bases
are belong to us”) has become our motto, or as one song we’ve been known
to sing “This lane is my lane, it is not your lane, now move on over, or
I’ll key your nice paint”. In an earlier thread on the Touring list,
gaining respect from motorists was being discussed; I think that
visibility and predictability are the two key components to being
treated like equal road users. We ride like vehicles including taking
lanes, using turn signals, stopping when we should etc, and with our
bright pannier bags and SMV signs, we get treated like the slow-moving
vehicles that we are even if they have to slow and wait for a safe place
to pass. The worst we’ve had said to us was a car in New Jersey with
some kid yelling “BAAA-AAA-AAA” out the window; I remarked over the
radio to the kids that it must be date night in Jersey as he had his
girlfriend with him and we all got a laugh at his expense.

All things happen for a reason. They really do.

We had left Pierre and climbed out of the Missouri River Valley headed
West toward Philip (87 mi) with an alternate goal of Midland (60mi) if
we couldn’t make Philip. Stefan was having trouble pedaling and said
that he had absolutely no energy. He has been complaining the last
couple of days of flu-like symptoms and I’d noticed that he was getting
increasingly sunburnt, so I was thinking sun poisoning as a possibility
and had highly suggested to him to start using sunblock. Plus, over the
last day or so, since learning that the closest Army reserve unit was in
Billings, MT, I have been stressing about how to see the things we
wanted to see in this corner of South Dakota (Badlands and Black Hills -
we already paid our dues by riding across the rest of the state) while
getting him to his Reserve Drill on time. We were pulling up yet
another long hill and he said we should catch a ride into town and call
it a day as he simply did not feel like riding. I half-jokingly replied
that if he wanted to thumb a ride, go for it. As we crested the hill and
started down the backside, a large horse trailer approached from the
rear and he stuck his thumb out. I told him that there was no way they
were going to stop that thing on this hill and I wanted to stop and have
a snack and drink some. As we pulled over, we realized that the truck
had pulled over as well, halfway up the next hill about 3/4 of a mile
away. We didn’t want to assume anything (they could have pulled over for
any number of reasons), but at the same time, we weren’t about to ignore
them either…if nothing else, perhaps they were the ones in need of
help. We started pedaling again.

It turned out to be 3 women, 3 generations in fact. Jill is a
world-class barrel racer (see http://www.jillmoody.com/ ) and enroute to
Washington State for the World Rodeo Finals along with her mother and
grandmother. They said they were going to Sturgis on the backroads and
we asked if they could drop us in Billsburg, about 25mi North of Philip
so we could ride on in and still be much closer to Interior for the next
day’s ride. They offered to take us all the way to Billings, but we said
no, we really wanted to see the Badlands and Black Hills before moving
on to MT since I had no idea when or if I would ever be in this area
again. We disassembled the bikes and panniers and loaded them in the
horse trailer. As we rode, they decided they needed to go to Rapid City
to get a new tank for the truck since the horse trailer was hitting the
in-bed fuel tank on tight corners, so we decided to get dropped in
Philip instead. Looking at the map, it dawned on me that we could kill
yet another bird if we got off in Wall, which was the same distance from
Interior, yet would also allow us to visit the ICBM National Historical
site east of Wall on I-90. This consists of several sites related to the
Minuteman thermonuclear ballistic missiles that stood alert for years.
They have a launch facility and an intact missile silo (complete with
missile) as part of the National Park System and you can tour them. I
had heard of these sites a few days ago, but had not figured out how to
work that into our route without some backtracking and still make
Billings in time for Stefan’s drill; these ladies provided the answer.
We watched the signs counting down the miles to Wall.

BLAMM!!!

The front left tire on the horse trailer completely blew apart about 15
miles outside of Wall. I made a remark about it being time for Stefan
and I to earn our keep and within a minute or so Stefan already had the
spare off, handling the 100-lb tire like it was a child’s toy. We fired
up the generator and impact wrench and were back on the road in about 20
minutes. Jill remarked that she would have never been able to change
that tire as the spare weighed as much as she did and that she was
really glad she had picked us up and that we had stuck with them that
far instead of getting off in Billsburg or Philip.

Like I said, all things happen for a reason.

We are now in Wall, SD and have separated our stuff into two piles. The
smaller pile is the bare minimum for two days in the backcountry and
will be going with us in two small panniers for a 2-day loop ride East
on 90 past the ICBM complex, South to Interior, spend the night in the
Badlands and back up to Wall on 240. The rest of our week’s supply of
“Stuff” will be stored in the motel’s back room, lightening our load
considerably and we’ll pick it up when we come back through. From here,
we’ll shoot over to Custer, (bypassing Rapid City except for maybe a
brief stop at Ellsworth AFB) and catch the Mickelson Rail Trail North
through the Black Hills to Deadwood and then on to Billings. If we run
short on time to get to Stefan’s drill, we’ll have several days on US
212 between Sturgis and Billings to decide if we need another ride to
get there in time while including a stop at Little Bighorn. Once his
drill is over and we’re back to no time constraints, I doubt we’ll take
another ride until it’s time to come home and that’s if we end up
hitching back across since at this point, I am not really sure how we’re
going to get home. Catching rides like this don’t bother me as we have a
higher purpose than simply not wanting to ride our bikes (although I
didn’t really feel like riding yesterday either and didn’t complain at
all about the ride) and with some of the twists and turns we’ve made in
our route for lodging and sightseeing, our total distance pedaled will
still end up being much higher than if we simply rode straight across
coast-to-coast on the shortest route possible.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

We left Fort Thompson late due to wanting to catch the powerhouse tour
at the dam. It was cancelled, so we headed on into the DakotaMart for
some water (the tap water’s not that great) and more food. We’re getting
used to stocking up a few days ahead of time out here because there’s
not much else to be had and there are often long distances in between
places to get anything. Today was a case in point as after the stop at
the store and a quick peek inside the LodeStar casino (Stefan had never
seen a casino before - he lost 2 dollars and I asked him if he’d learned
anything) we didn’t see anything else for 15 miles as we climbed out of
the Missouri River valley…and it was closed with a sign immediately
after it that said “Next Services 47 miles”. Moral of the story is don’t
take anything for granted. We were OK on the food and water at that
point, but Stefan was desperately looking for some privacy of some sort
for some personal business. He ended up deep in the shoulder-high
sunflowers.

At one point, we were stopped by some firefighters checking up on us. We
talked for a bit about the training they had just attended in Sioux
Falls (I’m a volunteer and had done the same training plus I teach some
of their classes) and as they drove away I kicked myself in the rear for
not asking about places to stay; we could have possibly scored a
firehouse instead of the city park. They told me that The Pit Stop was
up ahead if they were open….it was a seasonal watering hole, mainly
for the farmers.

Just before reaching the large downhill leading back into the river
bottom, we found a little quonset hut with a big sign out front reading
“Welcome Bikers”. Taking that as an invitation, we pulled in and had a
delightful 45-minute visit with the lady who ran The Pit Stop. She told
us how cross-country cyclists on the trans-am route would sign the road
just down from her driveway as they reached the halfway point. I didn’t
see any of the paint but that just reminded me to check the math to see
where our halfway point is.

According to Mr Delorme, we passed our halfway point a few miles before
Ft Thompson, so I guess it’s too late to paint our names on the road.

Wow. halfway. I had no idea, I thought we still had a ways to go. I know
it’s not exact as the quick and dirty route that I threw together isn’t
precisely the same as what we’ve taken or what we will take, but it’s
close enough for me to feel it. I am measuring from where we dipped our
wheels in the Atlantic ocean at Wildwood, NJ to where we plan to hit the
Pacific in Crescent City, CA. NYC and San Francisco are ports of
embarkation and debarkation because you can’t find a Greyhound station
or car rental joint at a lonely stretch of beach, but hte real trip is
coast-to-coast. Now I’m crying..and laughing too at the absurd sight of
where I’m sitting as I type this (let’s just say that I’m
multi-tasking). Halfway home.

Speaking of home, they got hit pretty hard for an itty bitty tropical
storm. Some of our friends were flooded out, but we were fortunate (and
had sandbags across the low spots in the driveway to keep the water on
the road where it belonged). Lot of trees down and still a few road
closures, but it wasn’t Katrina. I’m starting to miss the place and the
people there….Bonnie, the rest of the kids, and our friends, but we’re
halfway there. Just 2,000 more miles to go!

Today we’re headed to Midland (60mi) and if we feel up to it, on to
Philip (87mi). Tomorrow, we head down to Interior and across through The
Badlands. We may come back up to Wall and catch a ride on into Rapid
City as Stefan just found out that the closest Army Reserve unit is in
Billings, MT and he has to be there by the 5th to drill with them; I
would rather catch a ride on the interstate to make up time than miss
the Badlands and Black Hills. We’ll see how that goes.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

Fri morning, we woke up to howling winds out of the West. Wunderground
was calling for 45mph gusts and had been issuing wind warnings the last
few days, but called for a easing of the winds the following day and a
tailwind for Sat and Sunday, so we decided to call it a day and explore
town. Woonsocket is a neat little town that I am glad we had time to
kill in because I believe it is fairly representative of small prairie
towns that have succeeded. Most people live there because of family ties
(I have asked many people across the country why they live there and
that is the main answer) and a wall of photo-etched plaques at the park
bears that out as many of the last names are the same. One such plaque
traced a family’s history from “Boy meets girl” in 1944 (pictures of a
soldier and a young girl), they bought a big house and filled it with
lots of children (picture of a big ol’ house and a list of about 7 kids)
and lived happily ever after (photo of an old couple holding hands).
Right next to it are memorial plaques for two of the kids.

The town wasn’t that big, you could walk 1/2 a mile in either direction
and be on the wide open prairie, but it was still neat and I could see
aising kids there as long as you kept them busy. I still wouldn’t move
there as I really like trees, but it was a pretty town nonetheless with
very friendly people and one that I’m glad i had the chance to
experience rather than a rest day in some big generic city.

Sat morning, the wind was still blowing slightly out of the West but we
took off anyway after a late breakfast/lunch at one of the mom and pop
restaurants in town. As we pedaled West, the wind increased until it was
hard to maintain 8mph. Climbing a large hill leading into Wessington
Springs, we saw an American Legion (which I’m a member of) lounge on the
hill overlooking the prairie. Checking the weather, we saw that the wind
was supposed to change within an hour and decided that sounded like a
good rest time as we had 50 miles of wide open prairie without a gas
station, town, or anything ahead of us before we got to Fort Thompson.
As 4PM came, the wind changed as promised and like Tom Hanks on Castaway
we took off again for the final 45 miles or so. The riding was
beautiful, the scenery awesome, and I can’t imagine why anyone would not
want to ride across SD. This is getting into the American West and the
terrain, while relatively flat does offer up some breathtakingly
beautiful scenic panoramas from any hill you come to.

We had a few major hills as we got closer to Fort Thompson and some
really good downhills as we descended into the Missouri river valley.
Stopping in at a DakotaMart for groceries, we were the only whites in
the store as we were in the middle of one of the larger Indian
reservations in the country. The people were very friendly and the
prices were good so I loaded up with provisions for the next few days
since the population density is so low here that we do not have hosting
lined up from any of the lists; this is why we are fully self-contained
and can camp anywhere we can sling our hammocks or even set them up as
tents if need be. We are currently camped in an Army Corps of Engineers
campground on a large island in the Missouri River as we were warned
several times by different people to avoid the free city campground as
it was a popular hangout for folks up to no good. Most of the people
here in the campground are white people going fishing and many are
driving large expensive camping rigs and pulling nice boats, often as a
double trailer combo. Most of the people that I’ve seen working around
here are Indian. Last weekend was a large festival that I wish we could
have made it to as we have always ridden our bikes to powwows in the
past (I’m part Creek) and it would have seemed fitting to show up at
this one on bikes….maybe next time.

We’re about to go grab our showers and head for Pierre, about 60 miles.
We should have a tailwind most of the day and it’s cool enough that
overheating should not be a problem. Incidentally, Stefan’s helmet and
gloves were located at the clubhouse that we stayed in in Spirit lake,
IA, so my apologies to the people of Siox City for thinking that someone
there stole them.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

We woke up at Ed and Edith’s house with the wind still blowing out of
the South. I took some time trying to get pictures of their house as it
was difficult showing all of their huge antennas….like I told Ed on
the rdaio, I’ll probably end up in downtown Sioux Falls before I get the
whole shot. Incidentally, the day before, we had seen his antenna farm
when the GPS showed us still 2 miles away from his house. Leaving was an
easier ride than coming in; he lives halfway down a 6-mile long dirt
road and the last 3 miles are much harder packed than the first half.

We had a short downwind run to CR 38 and then turned left toward
Mitchell. The riding was tough with the strong and gusty crosswinds, but
the road was in good shape so we made decent time. We picked up my “new”
(bought used on Ebay) camera from UPS and the lens that I had bought
before the old camera was brutally murdered on the bridge in Winona, MN
and put them together; they worked beautifully, so now you will have
pictures from us again.

At that point, I fulfilled my life destiny. I witnessed a site that had
drawn me across the continent, over muddy potholed towpaths, through
hailstorms, driving rain, wind, and at least one wrong turn onto a
freeway bridge.

I saw the Corn Palace!

There was a street festival going on as they are getting ready for the
Corn Palace festival, so the streets were lined with rides and vendors;
I couldn’t get a clear shot, but htere it was and it was a pretty decent
sight to see. For those of you who aren’t familiar, the building was
first built over a hundred years ago and serves as a community hall.
each year, local artists select a theme and decorate the building with
corn, wheat, rye and various other grains. There are murals and artistic
designs, all done in grain; the locals call it the world’s largest
bird-feeder. This year’s theme is “Everyday heroes” and the various
murals depict firefighters, cops, paramedics, and soldiers. Folks tease
and make jokes about it, but I thought it was a really cool artistic
statement using a medium that is vitally important to the local economy:
grain. Farming permeates every aspect of life here and to see it
celebrated in such a way is really cool.

It was still fairly early in the day so we decided to get some more
miles in before dark. The Army recruiter had called a friend of his in
Woonsocket and confirmed that we could camp at the city park, so we took
off with a howling 20MPH tailwind. For 20 miles, we barely pedaled, but
hten we turned right and the crosswind resumed it’s fury as Stefan was
blown off the road several more times before we reached our destination.

The campground is pretty nice…tent campers are free and we haveour
hammocks slung in the picnic shelter. We do have to keep everything
secured as the wind threatens to blow it away if we don’t and I was
awakened several times by the wind blowing my hammock around. One gust
actually moved my laptop several inches across the picnic table. Looking
at the weather this Friday morning, I think we’re going to take a break
as the wind is now even stronger and out of the West with 45-50MPH
gusts. Considering that there are no stopping places between here and
Fort Thompson, I’ll wait until the wind lets up tomorrow (according to
the forecast)to make that run and by Sun we should have a gentle
tailwind.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

We got Joshua into Sioux falls on Monday night (I’m a little confused on
the dates I put on my past journals, so just bear with me while I figure
that out - the date listed on this subject is correct regardless of what
hte last email said) and onto the Greyhound. Just to prove that nothing
is as simple as it sounds, Stefan’s helmet and gloves walked off from
the Greyhound station. We miraculously made it to our host’s house with
him riding helmetless in spite of the dire warnings of all the bad
things that will happen if you ride without one. What hurt worse than
losing his helmet (it’s already been replaced) was the loss of his radio
cmmunications headset that allowed us to talk to each other via ham
radio even when out of earshot or to talk to other hams.

We got up Tues morning and headed out across the prairie. Did you know
they have wind here? We had 20MPH gusts all day long out of the South.
Riding in a straight line was often very difficult and Stefan was blown
off the road a couple of times. Turning North towards Salem let us find
out that A)It is really neat riding with a 20MPH tailwind, and B) You
get hot really fast with no relative wind, so there is a price to pay. I
think that the perfect combination would be a 20MPH wind coming from
about 5 or 7 O’clock (ESE or ENE if you are headed due West) so that you
have a tailwind and it cools you down a bit.

We reached the turn-off to our host Ed’s house. Ed WOSD and his wife
Edith W0OE are both ham radio operators that I met on
Hospitalityclub.org and were really neat to hang out with. He helped me
fix mine and Stefan’s j-pole antennas that we have hanging from our
flagpoles and we were able to check into the statewide South Dakota
emergency net. They fed us a big ol’ farm meal which did a pretty good
job of sticking to our ribs. Ed s very knowledgeable about the area and
history and helped a lot with electing our route to Pierre and Wall, so
we’ll be following his ideas for the next few days although I do have
questions about “Bad River Road” which shows up on some listings as a
dirt road. If it is, we have an alternate plan that will be just a
little longer and not as scenc from everything I’ve heard about BRR.

So far, I really like South Dakota. There is a stark beauty about the
place that I can see some folks enjoying. I’m not sure if I would live
here or not, but I can understand why some would want to…obviously not
many considering how few people we’ve actually seen here and I am sure
it takes a special breed to put up with the harsh winters and summers. I
am looking forward to seeing more of it over the next few days.

Gene and Stefan Floyd
Bicycling coast-to-coast for dads and kids
Daily blog and 3500+ photos at
http://www.rideforfatherhood.org
850.284.3677

Florida Family “Rides for =
Fatherhood”
Video clip of our TV =
spot in Spirit Lake, IA

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