Plan B

To Jordan, Montana -- 67.0 miles, 9.7 mph, 2875 ft

Today was one of the longest days yet, at least in terms of number of hours in the saddle. To avoid as much of the wind as possible, we started at the unprecedented time of 6:10 a.m.!  We could easily have started an hour earlier given how early the sun rises, but we are only so masochistic. That said, it was a long, seven-hour pedaling day. My butt definitely does not like that many hours on the bike. Once again, we chopped the day up into hour-long segments, except for the first interval where we went for a whole two hours in a row!  Mentally, we can only seem to handle an hour at a time these days.

Unfortunately, this is Montana, “Big Sky” and "Few People" territory. There was pretty much nuthin’ between the metropolis of Circle and the hot-spot of Jordan, unless you want to count the rest stop at mile 30, where there was nothing but a couple bathrooms. I could have killed for a vending machine. As a result, the remainder of our rest stops we're simply on the side of the road.

Dex and Kylie still amaze me. They seem to be happy as clams during stops searching for different colored rocks, excavating them, or, like this afternoon, playing with their Kindermen in a small gully next to the road. Nevertheless, I must say, the long days must be wearing on them too. Dex was in a total panic the other morning just because he couldn't get everything stuffed into his pannier anymore.

Tonight, we are staying in the extremely basic K and K Trailer Park as the only hotel in town, the Garfield, is full. In the meantime, Meg has been trying to formulate a plan B to avoid riding in the wind for the next few days. Tomorrow, in particular, is supposed to be brutal. Winds at 25 from the northwest plus a higher than normal chance of showers. Her plan, therefore, is to find a ride to Lewistown, about 125 miles away. Dex and I will keep riding and meet up with her and Kylie in two and a half days. We put the word out at the Garfield Hotel that we're looking for a ride, but, as of yet, no bites.

Despite the uncertain plans, after setting up and cleaning up, we wandered the couple blocks to main street and the Hells Creek Bar. There was a big crowd tonight for a special BBQ. Toward the end of dinner, a man walked by offering us a plate of Rocky Mountain Oysters. There's a euphamism if I ever heard one. I went in for a taste but, after clarifying the name, the kids wisely declined.