We started in Marmarth this morning, with about 20 miles to reach Baker Montana and only about 10 miles from the border. This brought us for a little longer through the National park and it's beautiful rock forms and shapes and earth stripes. Our aim was about 90 miles to the Makoshika State Park in Montana.
Getting started along 12, though, we learned almost immediately after leaving the shelter of the town that the wind was strong. Very strong. And against us. I was in the lead for the 18 or so miles to Baker. And it took just under 2 hours to crawl my way there. The wind was gusting and straight out of the north. It is the strongest we have dealt with thus far, and we've dealt with it a lot -- both favorably and unfavorably. When it is kind, it is very kind and when it is unkind, it is cruel. The plants and grass swayed and bent.
Baker is a tank and oil hub for the keystone XL route, and another milestone on our route. It is a rather small town, but larger than some we have passed, with larger storage tanks on the way in from the east and a railway, and sits on a small reservoir or lake. Here we stopped at a gas station for a second breakfast. And then began to trudge on our way.
We had thought from Baker to Makoshika State Park near Glendive to take what is called Anticline Rd on google maps. Once a short ways out of town, this became gravel. Combined with a wind strong enough to toss me sideways on bike, some 60 miles on gravel would not work. In the short ways we crunched along it, I spun out multiple times as the wind pushed me into loose sand. Laurel said she did not mind it. But her tires must handle it better than mine as hers are wider slightly and in any case gravel would slow us in such a wind to a halt. Highway 7 out of Baker, I had noticed, also went to Glendive though this route would tack on another 15 miles. We cut cross country via small gravel roads and right up to and past oil rigs back to 7. The chance to see the rigs up close and some of the even further back country of the oil fields was perhaps an unintended advantage. Otherwise, because of the wind and the cattle grates and the rocks, I was cursing.
Highway 7, though paved, was due north and straight into the blustery gusts of wind. It was at times almost a standstill for me. When semis barreled past us, the wall of wind would smack us hard and rattle us of course. We would huddle up small as they approached, trying and failing to duck under their miserable wake. The land was beautiful enough, broader still with sprawling vistas and fields and some rocky buttes. But the wind. It was almost unreal. And more than a bit frustrating. A few times we let out unbelieving laughs into its gusts as they shoved us around. More than once it carried away my curses and profanities as I fell far behind Laurel. I rarely if ever use harsh language, but those downwind of me must have guessed the air carried the collective voice of a ship of sailors.
I knew there was no way we could make 90 miles in such ceaseless gusts, 30mph at least. Every inch was a battle, let alone a mile. When after some time I caught up to Laurel, she asked me if I really wanted to go all the way to Glendive. I laughed in surprise! I would be more than happy to concede to the wind, I told her! This is the first time she has been the one to admit that the conditions just can't be beat. It has so far exclusively been me, who has stepped in if I can work up the courage , knowing my limits and reevaluating. To dissuade someone so stubbornly ambitious as Laurel the winds truly must have been strong. We laughed some more in spite of the wind. Today would be far better served kite flying. We decided that we would have to try for the soonest town, still some 45 miles or so and making a total mileage of around 60.
At one point, I noted a sign for the other direction for Baker. We had only gone about 14 miles from town, in such a long time. There was a section of long high climbs, and a number of downhills that might have been fast if we weren't being pushed backwards up them by the wind. To add insult, I spied at one point a late sign in a field that read only "LOSING." I suppose this was a family name or some other name, but it seemed fitting, I laughed harshly.
Laurel pushed far into the distance ahead of me, leaving me many many miles behind. I try to brush this off, as I know it is her best strategy to get herself through tough conditions, but I find it so discouraging and even dangerous. But I did my best to keep my pace and keep my thoughts calm and persevering. At perhaps my lowest point, a hawk floated in the now slightly more subdued winds. It called into the air, distinct, and continued to coast curiously above. I felt encouraged by it, as it followed just above me. I do not know what it's thoughts or aim was, but it seemed to me that it had come at a moment I needed encouraging, and had seen me onwards. I felt overcome by gratitude for its help, even if it had been unintentional. It seemed to me almost to have appeared, or to have been sent. In an exhausted state, one seeks aid where one might, and who is to know for sure.
I rolled into the town of Wiboux long after Laurel, who was waiting in town eating her M and Ms. At the very least, the town was somewhat larger, and not merely a gas station as I had feared. We asked if there were any places to stay in town, and luckily there is one motel, the Beaver Creek inn and suites. The owner greeted us, and when she told us the price of around 90 dollars we both despaired. This was very very costly for us. We both looked drained and asked her if there was anything less, explaining the rough day. She very, very kindly gave us a room at a discount. She also told us she has started taking a liking to cyclists recently as she feels a kinship to them as a Vespa rider (she was joking). But she did tell us a young woman had come though about a week ago on bike, from Washington and headed to ohio. She was glad to see that we were in a pair, as she said she found it far to dangerous for a young woman to go solo through the oil fields. She told us it has become increasingly dangerous, and we both agreed that after the murder of a woman out jogging, it is indeed frightening. She explained that locals are very frustrated with the danger and the risks from many unknown oil field workers. I have read too many articles of increased crime, increased prostitution, and other dangers that have found there way to this part of the country following oil. She seemed very frustrated indeed with how things are now, and concerned for women like us and those in the area. She said that locals are all good people and Wiboux is a good community, but things have changed especially in areas like Glendive. There are too few service workers, and a huge influx of oil field workers, and that prices in those areas for food and lodging has skyrocketed. These were things that I knew from articles an news, but it was still disheartening to hear from a local.
Tomorrow, we are hoping for safe and smoother and hopefully less windy travels to Circle MT, about 90 miles away.
RSS Feed