As forecasted, we had strong winds, but they weren't from the northwest. They were from the south, but had just a little bit of west in them to make them not harmful after the first few miles south to US2 were covered. I promise not to bring them up again. :-)

Today's route was listed at 91 miles, with an extra 9 mile extension to make a century ride for those wanting to do so. People were up early, and my neighborhood was pretty deserted when I finally got going. Some mornings things just run more smoothly than others, and this wasn't one of them. Maybe there just weren't enough mosquitos to keep me going, since Tioga was pretty dry.

The route alternated between new US2 and old US2. I hadn't even known the latter exists. In short, the traffic is considerably less, but the pavement may not make up for that bonus. It was as though each individual pea gravel was glued down 3/8 inch from its nearest neighbor, with no filler/grout/tar in between. It was better than gravel roads, but the constant rumble and vibration was wearing. It also reduced our speed by 1-2mph, not desirable on a long day like today. I won't bring the roughness up again either. :-)

Three or four miles from Ross (61), the first stop at about the twenty-three mile point, I popped over a hill and saw a large dog in the middle of the road farther on. Dogs and cyclists generally don't get along, so I wasn't sure what to expect. And it was part way up a grade, so zooming by at high speed would be difficult. When I got closer, I gave it all I had and successfully made it by. But it was no problem as the black lab was looking a little tired. As *soon* as I pulled into the rest stop in Ross at the Dakota West General Store, someone came up to me immediately, asking for a dog report!

It seems the lab followed three cyclists out of camp in Tioga! It eventually dropped back, and they were concerned about it. A couple of other cyclists had tried to give it water, but it didn't have the knack for drinking from water bottles. Just as I was leaving, don't you suppose it followed a couple of cyclists into the parking lot. The store owner scrounged up a leash while another cyclist found a bowl and water, which the dog happily accepted. All we could figure is that the lab was a juvenile, running more on hormones at this stage in life than brain power!

On to Stanley! It was going to be a treat to continue on through the town! Stanley is the location of the regional 4-H speech and demonstration contests, and I have memories of the long car ride from Alexander to Stanley, feeling just a little ill from nervousness. But today I was in control of the situation, and the Knox Blox and model railroad demonstrations, and speeches on cats and the Bermuda Triangle (ummm, they *were* two different speeches, two different years, but combined they *could* make for an interesting topic) were long past!

Mass confusion for many arose at Stanley, as the route from new US2 through town to old US2 hadn't been included on the daily map, and the painted road directions were just a little too small to be easily seen. I happened to glance down at the right time to avoid continuing on new US2, and again in town while waiting to see which direction a cement truck was really turning. On the other side of town, someone ahead of me and I were buzzed by a young buck in a big green 'cruiser'. The fellow ahead had a few choice words to say about the incident when I caught up with him. I gladly joined in with the venting! We rode together for over an hour. He's an independent financial consultant from Fargo. He'd been on the previous three CANDISCs, and was the least prepared for this one. The hills were particularly a struggle for him since the Red River Valley doesn't offer those training challenges. And the spring was rather wet this year, which hampered things a bit too. (For those that know Dave Dunn, a former Unisys co-worker of mine, this fellow is his twin brother in appearance, age, speech patterns, and interests. More than once I was asked to provide some base knowledge on a subject I was talking about, because I assumed he already had that knowledge!)

I don't know what happened, but there was no activity at either Palermo (95) or Blaisdell, both official rest stop sites. I was *very* thankful for having three waterbottles along for that stretch to Berthold. There wasn't a cyclist in sight when I made an unscheduled stop right by missle silo F6 (or F7). I was curious what the response time would be for Air Force personnel to arrive if I threw a few things over the fence, but decided it'd unnecessarily lengthen my ride by finding out. A few minutes later another cyclist pulled in, and she said, "That was 90 down, over half of the way!" Ummm, the mileage didn't quite correspond to what *my* computer said. "Oh, I meant kilometers!" She's from Canada (Ontario?), probably in her 50's, and was on her first long ride, because "it was just something that popped into my head to do." She'd missed the route into Stanley, and hence that rest stop, so was also glad to be carrying a general store with her. We chatted a few more minutes and then I needed to get moving again. My legs seem to stiffen up if too much rest time lapses.

Somewhere along there, when I was all by myself for as far as I could see, I was near the crest of a hill when off to the left an extremely large motorhome came cruising along toward the highway. There was no official road, just a dirt path it was following. And I couldn't see any trace of farm or lake in the area! It almost seemed like something out of a Monty Python movie.

The last few miles into Berthold (409), the lunch stop, were on new US2, and the half dozen of us that got to the highway about the same time cruised at over 20mph with the slight tailwind and smooth road (oops--it just slipped out). Lunch was at the Tumbleweed Cafe on Main Street. It was the best lunch stop of the week, featuring an all-you-can-eat buffet with spaghetti as the main course. It was shortly after 11, it'd been a long ride since the last stop, and Minot was just down the road, so even the hard-core, have-to-get-there cyclists were still at Berthold when I got there. After the leisurely lunch, many of us waddled out to our bikes to finish up the journey.

Well, let's see. The route out of Berthold was on old US2. Just southeast of Burlington, it descends down Des Lacs Hill into the Souris Valley to new US2, where we headed opposite Monday's direction out of Minot. (I don't suppose anyone caught the fact that on Monday it was out of Minot on US"52". :-) They run together for several miles west of Minot.) I skipped the restaurant rest stop on that stretch, still a little uncomfortably stuffed from the Berthold incident. :-) The route into Minot led us onto a county road, and eventually to a T-intersection where one could turn right and go straight to the Minot State University campus, or turn left and make a 9 mile loop to get up to that magic 100 mile mark for the day. With a "what the heck" attitude, I turned left.

One aspect of cycling that really appeals to me is the 'oneness' that occurs; the bicycle becomes an extension of one's self. I know more of how my bicycle is performing than I do of parts of my own body. It was at this point in the ride however, that the fact that it really isn't an extension was clearly made known. My butt and saddle were warring, with my saddle having the upper edge (or maybe it just felt like I was sitting on an edge). 380+ miles in five days had finally taken its toll. The last few miles were *not* as enjoyable as they could have been. The final kick-in-the-seat involved biking back down into the Souris Valley, into the wind (okay, okay, I know) at 12 mph. I'd come down into the valley at Des Lacs at over 35. That wind at our backs the entire way would have been sweet. I was just glad it wasn't in front of us the whole day.

Minot: I opted to stay with Janet and Todd rather than camp at the U. Strong storms were predicted for the area, so along with good room, board, and company, a solid roof sounded appealing. The Carpio contingency also came in for supper, and left Dad in Minot to join Todd and me on the final day. The weather forecast mentioned that significant changes were in store, and that Williston, Crosby, and Tioga were reporting northwest winds gusting to 40mph. I guess I took off too early in the day. :-)