The strong storms mentioned in the night's forecast didn't materialize. In fact, no rain materialized, and the sun was poking through the clouds. Todd, Dad, and I got going about 7, with a cool wind at our sides. The two of them conferred and came up with the best route out of town to US83. It also happened to include the steepest hill of the week, with legs not yet warmed up. Dad's fresh legs reached the top first, mine came in second, and Todd's "we have not done this since Bike the Badlands two years ago" legs were complaining by the time they caught up with ours.

There were other cyclists zooming by when we got to US83. The highway is four lane all the way to Bismarck, with generally a decent shoulder to ride on. Traffic was by no means heavy, so we were able to (safely but maybe illegally) ride three abreast at times and visit. Todd's legs and that side wind kept the pace fairly relaxed, something my seat wasn't enjoying as a relaxed pace means more pressure in that area. I found that if I could put up with pain for a few minutes without trying to readjust my position, it'd numb things up to a tolerable level. There was only one stop, at Max (301) again, but this time at the school so there was an ample supply of water. Monday's stop had been just out of town alongside the road. Todd and Dad dug into my store of goodies, both opting for Mom's chocolate chip cookies rather than the "real biker's food" I'd been living on enroute all week.

It was somewhere south of Max, coasting down a hill, that a cyclist passed us and made sure we knew he was extremely upset with us for not having pulled into the ditch when he hollered "Left" so that he could pass without changing his bicycle's course in the least. It was possible to blow it off at the time, but when we turned west for the six miles to Garrison, he was taking a break at the intersection and again hurled some insult at us. That was it. I turned around and went back to find out his views on life. There was no reasoning with him, partly because he wouldn't let me talk, so I took off to catch up to Todd and Dad, who were battling the wind. The last I heard was "I want to discuss this!" and looked back to see him standing in the middle of the road yelling. Don't you suppose he hopped on his bike and took off after me?

I'm one who doesn't enjoy confrontation, but with the wind, I knew I couldn't outride him. I asked if we could start over and introduced myself. He blurted out "Mike from Illinois" and continued on with illogical reasoning, utter nonsense (my opinion, of course :-), and inaccurate knowledge of the law. I finally shut him up with two questions he didn't answer: "You agree that bicycles are legally considered vehicles. If you're driving a car and someone wants to pass you, do you pull over to the side and let them?" and "Did you have any problems getting around us?" At that point, he threatened that the next time he comes across the three of us, someone was going to take a fall. After that comment, he ironically called *me* an idiot and then dropped off.

The six miles into the gusty wind that I'd been dreading ticked off much faster than anticipated. I was biking at 11-12mph, passing many cyclists. Todd and Dad weren't waiting at the turnoff to the spaghetti feed in Garrison, so I knocked off the three remaining miles south to Fort Stevenson. They weren't at the car either. Now what? Load up, and wait or head into Garrison? I decided to wait, and they showed up 20-30 minutes later. I hadn't seen that they pulled up at the initial intersection "in case I needed backup." And Dad said that when I biked past them he knew I had enough steam so it was useless to try to catch up to me. :-) It wasn't exactly the greatest end to the cycling, but I'd gotten closure on the incident.

An all-you-can-eat spaghetti lunch was waiting in Garrison (1530), so we loaded their bikes onto the rack and took off. The wind was fierce and the temperature only in the 60s, so people were looking for sunny spots, a far cry from the rest of the week with temps in the 90s and shade a nice bonus wherever we were. Todd and I opted for hot cocoa too, something I wouldn't have guessed the evening before. The final CANDISC event: a quick stop at Dairy Queen on the way out of town.

Next year, CANDISC cycles around Lake Sakakawea, some very pretty and rugged country. Feel free to join us. :-)